Passage
by MsMenna
Summary: Eleven years after his miraculous recovery and return to Downton, Matthew Crawley is enjoying his just desserts. Blessed with an enviable marriage, two healthy children and Downton standing strong, it seems his good fortune knows no bounds. Then a request made by Martha Levinson, his wife Mary's American grandmother, results in rough waters ahead that will be hard to navigate.
1. Chapter 1

Downton Abbey

April 21st, 1934

Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to Robert Crawley, the 7th Earl of Grantham, Viscount Downton, paused for a moment after entering the dining room and smiled upon finding it awash with sunlight. It enriched the color and texture of all it encompassed, bringing a warm glow to the cream colored walls and illuminating the dark, lustrous wood grain of the wainscoting and furniture.

The sight before his eyes was heartily welcomed as April had thus far been damp, dreary and depressing. The foul weather had not only soured his mood but caused his back to ache, a consequence of the injury he had sustained to it in the Battle of Amiens 16 years earlier.

He never complained about the pain or the event that led to his having a lifelong bruise on his spine, even jesting on more than one occasion that he owed his uncanny knack for predicting the weather to his service to King and Country.

Truth be told, he was grateful for the aches and spasms, though that was not something he admitted to anyone but himself as he feared he would be labeled a masochist. He wasn't, of course, as he derived no pleasure from his pain, only gratitude that he could feel it, since there had been a period in his life when he felt nothing at all below his waist.

That experience left an indelible mark on him in more ways than one, making the discomfort that plagued him on rainy days a mere drop in the bucket compared to the agony he suffered when he had believed himself paralyzed for life.

Still, the golden rays flowing through the tall windows went a long way in buoying his spirits as well as easing any soreness that lingered in is back, and so it was with a bounce in his step that he bid his father-in-law a 'good morning' as he passed him on the way to the sideboard to get breakfast.

Raising the covers off the gleaming silver serving dishes that held today's offerings, he found the savory aroma of the food combined with the scent of freshly cut flowers in a nearby vase intoxicating and took in a long, deep breath. Then, he set to work in earnest in filling his plate.

His mission accomplished, Matthew settled into the mahogany shield back chair to the right of the Earl, the seat he customarily filled at the breakfast table. Robert smiled broadly at him and as he returned it, he discretely took in his appearance. It pleased him to find he looked both well and rested, seemingly fully recovered from his recent bout of illness.

He noticed, too, that the head of the Crawley family was taking steps to ensure that his good health would continue as the food on his plate was clearly his physician's choice, not his.

Then he turned his attention to his own meal, unfurling a precisely folded, crisp linen napkin and placing it on his lap before he lifted a highly polished fork from the table and put it to good use, lightening the load on his plate with gusto.

The current and future Earl ate their breakfast in amiable silence, the quiet in the room broken only by the chirping of wrens and robins in song and the caw of a blackbird in the distance.

As their meal and nature's serenade continued, their ancestors looked down upon them, each brought to life in an oil portrait by one famed artist or another during the 17th & 18th century. The painting of the 1st Earl of Grantham by Gainsborough hung salon style along with the others that formed a border around the piece de resistance that dominated the room, van Dyk's 1635 portrait of King Charles I on horseback.

Matthew's eyes were drawn to the grandiose representation of the renowned royal whenever he entered the room, which was no surprise considering it filled one-third of the wall. He had always wondered if its placement had been intentional as it formed a fitting backdrop for the Earl of Grantham, who sat directly beneath it at every meal.

At the moment, said Earl was grimacing at the one his physician had prescribed as he pushed his still half-filled plate into the center of the table. The offensive food out of his way, he donned his spectacles and began sifting through the short stack of newspapers that were delivered each day. His choice made, he then buried his head in the London Herald, strategically maneuvering the tabloid from two hands to one with aplomb in order to take a sip of his tea or a bite of toast.

His father-in-law's lack of attention did not bother Matthew at all since he knew it was not rooted in disinterest in his well being or any ill will toward him. The two of them had long reached the point in their relationship where they could share a room in silence without either feeling uncomfortable. The period of privacy they afforded each another now was part of their morning routine, one that they rarely deviated from as it suited them both quite nicely.

A quarter of an hour later, the distinct clinking sound of cup meeting saucer alerted him that Robert had come up for air, and having emptied his own plate of the eggs, beans, tomatoes and mushrooms that originally filled it, he raised his head to address him. However, he could only manage a glimpse of the Earl as he retreated back behind the paper that obscured his face.

He smiled as he watched Robert juggle the broadsheet, cup of tea and slice of toast; finding his agility quite impressive at age 68. Then he stifled a belch and reached for the teapot in order to refill his cup.

While carefully scanning each page in order to weed out the articles of interest to him, the Earl discovered that Rudyard Kipling had been awarded the Gotherburg Prize for Poetry. Knowing Matthew's fondness for the author, he folded the paper and placed it aside in order to share the news with him.

Noting that his son in law's plate was empty and having first hand knowledge of how hearty Matthew's appetite was, he raised the cover from the serving dish that held their toast and finding a good portion remained, offered it to him.

"Have a slice before it gets cold, Matthew," he said, breaking the silence in the room.

"Thank you, Robert, but I couldn't eat another bite," he replied, waving his hand in front of the offering in protest. Then patting his stomach, he added "I fear Mary will divorce me if my waistline expands any further."

"Nonsense," Robert disagreed. "Mary wouldn't throw you over because you gained an extra pound or two… or for any other reason that I can think of for that matter, and you very well know it."

Matthew did, too, and that brought a smile to his face. There was no doubt in his mind that his wife loved him unconditionally as he did her in spite of their respective flaws. They just did not dwell on them, choosing instead to focus on the finer qualities that each possessed. It made for a happy marriage.

He and Robert spent the next ten minutes in casual conversation discussing Kipling's achievement, the improved weather and a few estate matters that both agreed did not require immediate attention.

Then, as their pleasant exchange wound down, the heir presumptive reached for the newspaper that lay folded to his right and opened it, his eyes widening immediately as he caught sight of the cover page of the Daily Mail.

"What the devil?" he bellowed, taking in what was purported to be a photograph of the Loch Ness monster beneath the bold headline.

Robert stretched as far as he could without leaving his seat in order to see what had caused Matthew's outburst, and taking in what appeared to be a prehistoric creature's head rising out of the water, his face contorted into a mirror image of his son-in-law's.

Well I never….," the Earl began and ended, shaking his head back and forth with incredulity.

"Apparently someone has," Matthew quipped, positioning the paper between them so that they could both read the article.

It stated that Doctor Robert Kenneth Wilson, a prominent London physician and surgeon had taken the photograph and attested to its authenticity, providing conclusive proof that the Loch Ness monster, considered Scottish folklore by most, did in fact exist.

He and Robert stared at the image, the latter removing his spectacles and cleaning them with an unused napkin before returning them to the bridge of his nose and further inspection of the shocking photograph. Though a bit grainy, he had to admit that it did appear to be that of a gigantic creature's long neck and flat head rising above the waters of the Loch Ness.

While their eyes were glued to the paper, neither heard Tom Branson, the Earl's son-in-law by his late daughter, Sybil, come into the room. Positioning himself behind his in-laws to see what held their rapt attention, he caught sight of the headline and photograph and let out a long whistle, startling Matthew so badly that he tossed the tabloid into the air. It landed with a thump, nearly toppling his teacup as its pages spread haphazardly across the table.

The two Crawley men then turned in unison with their eyes narrowed, but their displeasure went unnoticed by the Irishman, who was now looming over Matthew's shoulder with his own fixed on the headline and what lie beneath it.

"You scared me half to death, Tom," Matthew admonished. "Why didn't you make yourself known?"

Again, his rebuke did not hit home as his brother-in-law ignored him, his eyes narrowing into slits as he squinted in an attempt to read the small print from where he stood. Finding he could not manage it, his face contorted into a grimace.

His sense of humor coming into play, Matthew found the sight of the broadsheet strewn about the dining table, his father-in-law's rolling eyes and the expression on Tom's face comical and burst into laughter. Robert soon followed suit, and the sound of their combined mirth finally got the estate manager's attention.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard," Tom offered by way of apology. "In my defense, however, I did make myself known. I wished you each a 'good morning' when I came in but you were too embroiled in Nessie's discovery to hear me."

"Nessie's discovery?" the Earl bellowed. "Come now, Tom. You cannot possibly believe there is a monster living in the depths of Loch Ness."

Seeing the obstinate look on his brother-in-law's face made it clear that is exactly what he believed and Matthew thought it important that he set him straight. After all, as the estate manager, Tom's opinion would not only be taken into account by the Crawley's tenants but whomever he had business dealings with on Downton's behalf. He did not want him to be the source of ridicule should he share his feelings regarding the matter at hand with anyone outside of the family.

"I fear I must agree with Robert, Tom," he said as gently as he could in order to spare his feelings. "This has got to be some kind of a hoax…albeit a well-executed one. Creatures such as this one haven't roamed the earth for millions of years. You must know that."

Tom shot back, "That's rich coming from a man who was pronounced dead and then turned up on our doorstep," before he reached over and took a slice of toast from the serving plate. Waving it about in an animated fashion, he added, "If your resurrection has taught me anything, it is that nothing is impossible."

Matthew sighed, "The difference is I was never dead, Tom. My heart stopped beating for a very short while, but then came back on line, so to speak."

Tom glared at him, making it clear that both his kid glove approach and argument had failed. In frustration, he turned to his father-in-law for support and found him nodding his head in agreement.

Now eyeing both of his in-laws with displeasure, Tom took a large bite out of his toast and dug in his heels, countering, "I'll have you both know that there have been sightings of the Loch Ness monster as far back as 560 A.D. and they have become more and more frequent in the last hundred years. Why, just last July a man and his wife reported that they saw the creature cross the road in front of their car…and they described it as having a large body, long, wavy, narrow neck and no limbs…just like it was in the paper today. Then in November, someone named Hugh Gray…I'm pretty sure that is his name…came up with a photograph of the monster that he took near Foyers…but, unfortunately, that one was too blurry to publish."

At that, Tom took a deep breath, as he had rattled off his evidence at such rapid speed, that he needed air.

Matthew felt winded, himself, on Tom's behalf and filled his own lungs while catching sight of Robert pouring himself a cup of tea in his peripheral vision, no doubt to fortify himself for what might come next. This proved to be a wise decision on his part as he heard his brother-in-law piping up again.

Barely able to contain his excitement, Tom pointed to the broadsheet and cried out, "This….this is the evidence that the world has been waiting for – especially my brother, Kieran who has been a believer all along despite the naysayers."

Matthew found he felt a bit weary then, quite similar to the way he had many years earlier when he and Mary had argued over his accepting an inheritance that he did not feel he deserved. Their opposing views resulted in his then fiancé and him so at odds that their wedding was at risk of being canceled.

Though this disagreement with Tom was small potatoes compared to the brouhaha that resulted when he tried to get Mary to see his point, he was reminded that that it was an exercise in futility whenever you tried to change someone's mind regarding something of importance to them. He also acknowledged how much he hated confrontation, especially with those he loved. That realization enabled him to drop the argument altogether, and admitting defeat, he reached for the teapot.

Noting his heir's resignation and clearly thinking it wise, Robert turned to Tom and grumbled, "If you are going to join us for breakfast, would you kindly fill your plate at the sideboard and take a seat. I can see the pile of crumbs that have fallen from your toast onto Matthew's shoulder from here."

You can?" Matthew shrieked, maneuvering his head to the side in order to ascertain if his father-in-law's statement was made in jest and then scowling when he found it was not.

Looking abashed, Tom took up his napkin and began brushing away the offending crumbs.

"Get a plate, Tom, and sit down," Matthew pleaded, pulling the napkin from his hand and sweeping away any vestige that remained on his suit jacket.

The erstwhile chauffeur, who over the passage of time had not only become a valued addition in the management of the estate but a much loved member of the Crawley family, smiled broadly before popping the last bit of toast into his mouth and heading for the sideboard with alacrity.

After swallowing a hefty mouthful of eggs, Tom looked around the table, and as if seeing the empty chairs for the first time, asked, "Where are Mary and Sybbie? Aren't they usually down to breakfast by now? So is Victoria for that matter."

Matthew's eyes widened with surprise as Tom's question sunk in as it made no sense to him that he would ask such a thing. Noting Robert's raised eyebrows, he could tell that he felt the same way. Still, he responded nonchalantly that Mary and Cora as well as their own daughters had been down to breakfast hours earlier in order to catch the first train to London, where they would join their sister-in- law Edith, his future bride, Catherine, and her sister, Lilian in order to have their dresses fitted.

While Tom gaped at him as if he were the Loch Ness Monster, Matthew pondered the series of events that had led to his meeting his intended, beginning with his car accident, and arrived at the conclusion that his brother-in-law's upcoming nuptials was all down to him. After all, it was his friendship with Lilian Pomeroy, the nurse who cared for him while he suffered amnesia in the London Hospital, that led to her sister being invited to George's birthday party, and it was at that auspicious event that Catherine met Tom

"The girls have spoken of little else all week…," he said with exasperation, noting Tom still in a fog. "…and I can't believe Catherine hasn't mentioned it to you. That certainly would be something a fiancé would share with her betrothed."

Tom's mouth hung open for a long moment as he digested the information Matthew had provided before replying, "Well, I have been a bit preoccupied with this and that, but now that you mention it, I do recall Catherine saying something about a dress fitting… but I was under the impression that wasn't until next month. Even then, I wondered why she, or any of the others for that matter, would be having their dresses altered so soon. The wedding isn't until September. It seems to me that there is plenty of time for that sort of thing."

Matthew chortled, "You say that because you are a man, Tom. The fairer sex sees things very differently than we do. In fact, it has been my experience that when it comes to a wedding, it is best not to question anything that they do in preparing for it as they get a bit testy."

"Testy is putting it mildly, Robert exclaimed. "Cora nearly bit my head off when I asked her what would happen if she gained weight after her dress was fitted, which I thought quite a logical question."

Imagining his mother-in-law's face at hearing it, Matthew laughed once more, this time being joined by Tom, who clearly wenjoying the same mental image he was.

"You are lucky that she is speaking to you at all, Robert," Matthew said with a playful glint in his eye. Whenever Mary's weight has become a topic of conversation, which I might add I steer clear of religiously but she has brought up from time to time, I assure her that she doesn't look any different than she did the day we were married. I find that response keeps the peace," he smiled, mentally patting himself on the back. Then giving it more thought, he added. "In fact, I think the only time I found I could not use that line was the first few months after Victoria was born. You may both recall that she was quite a large baby and Mary had difficulty in returning to her original weight, having gained so much during the pregnancy. She was determined to do so, however, and sacrificed many of the foods she loved until she got her figure back, which I can happily say she did and has kept since."

His thoughts drifted then to that lovely figure, an image of Mary's full breasts, narrow waist and shapely legs forming in his mind so vividly that it caused him to blush, and he prayed it wasn't so obvious that Robert would pick up on it, leading him to surmise why he had suddenly gone red in the face.

He needn't have worried, though, as when he turned to his father-in-law, he found his eyes were focused on Tom and filled with compassion.

Following Robert's gaze, Matthew saw that although he was nodding his head in agreement, Tom appeared crestfallen, his shoulders slumped, head lowered and fork hanging in mid air as he looked at the food on his plate as though it were poison.

 _He's thinking of Sybil, again,_ he thought, having witnessed the expression on Tom's face many times over the years. It was understandable considering the 14th anniversary of her death was near as well as his upcoming wedding. He thought the latter must be bittersweet for Tom as he knew that Sybil would remain forever in his heart, even though he had pledged it to another.

"Tom, do you have time to go over some numbers with me after breakfast?" he asked in an effort to pull him out of his thoughts. "I know how much you hate that sort of thing but I really do need a pair of fresh eyes and Robert has business in the Village this morning."

For a brief moment, he saw confusion register on his father-in-law's face and raised his eyebrows high in his direction to get him on board.

Then the penny dropped and the Earl said, "Yes, I do," with as much conviction as he could muster while lying through his teeth. "In fact, I had better get a move on or I will be late," he added to bolster the deception and rose from his seat.

At that, Tom raised his head and found the two men he loved as much as if they shared the same blood with mournful expressions on their faces.

Managing a weak smile, he placed his fork down, pushed his plate away and replied, "Yes, Matthew, I'd be happy to go over whatever numbers you want me to, although I suspect you have done so three times already …and I suppose if Robert must go into the Village to keep up your ruse, he won't mind much considering it is such a lovely day. No doubt the fresh air will do him good."

Appearing guilty as charged, both men fumbled for a denial while Tom watched them squirm, the sight lightening his mood with each second that passed until his inherent good humor returned.

Taking pity on them, he cried out, "You are both terrible liars…but you are also two of the finest men I have ever known and I am grateful beyond measure for what you've done for me. God only knows how I would have managed all these years without her if not for your support."

At that, Matthew swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and blinked in an effort to forestall his now stinging eyes from spilling over. Tom was the brother he had often wished for as a child growing up in Manchester when he tossed a ball in the air or set up his toy soldiers for battle. Regarding him as such, he found it hard to get his emotions under control, and though he wanted very much to respond to his kind words, he found he couldn't; not just yet.

Fortunately, the now uncomfortable silence in the room was broken by his father-in-law, who found his voice, even though it was a bit raspy.

"Tom, it is I who must thank you for the comfort you have provided me and Cora in raising Sybbie under our roof. Having her here has kept a piece of Sybil alive for us and eased our grief immeasurably." He paused then and cleared his throat before continuing, "I am grateful that you are a part of our family, Son, and extremely proud of you. There isn't an estate manager between here and London who has worked as hard as you have in order that Downton prosper, especially after we lost Matthew. I'm sure he won't mind if I speak for both of us in letting you know how pleased we are to learn that something we may have said or done has lightened your load in some way. It should be made clear, too, that our support is unending should you need it."

"Hear, hear," Matthew cried out, tapping the table with his hand.

At that, the three men smiled at one another in silence, any further words unnecessary as what they felt was clear in their eyes – respect, admiration, gratitude and above all, love.

The memory of the first time he had felt this camaraderie between them came to the forefront of his mind then, providing him with a clear vision of the final play of one of the annual cricket matches between the House and Village. His mother's future husband and Crawley family physician, Richard Clarkson, had given the ball quite a ride in Tom's vicinity and he made the catch, denying the Village the win they had been certain of. Neither he, Robert or Tom could contain their excitement and they had rushed into the center of the field, grasping hold of each other's shoulder and forming a tight circle that he saw now had remained in place from that moment on.

Matthew knew that Robert had come to regard him as a son even before he had married his eldest daughter. He also was aware that it took his father-in-law a substantially longer period of time to think of Tom as such. That victorious moment on the cricket field laid the groundwork for the two of them to bond, but it wasn't until he was presumed dead and Tom took on his responsibilities as well as his own that the Earl began to regard him as a true member of the family.

His father in law had not exaggerated in his praise for Tom. He had not only worked tirelessly in implementing the plan he had laid out to secure Downton's future, but shared his knowledge and the expertise he had gained since his appointment as estate manager with Mary, who desperately needed his guidance once the letter he had drawn bequeathing his half of the estate to her upon his death was uncovered.

He couldn't imagine how his wife would have managed without Tom when in the midst of grieving his loss, she found herself not only responsible for safeguarding their son George's interest as the heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham but her own as well.

Tom had proven invaluable to him, too, since his return in 1923 as the overhaul of Downton proved to be a monumental undertaking, made even more difficult once the Great Depression hit in 1929.

Many of the farms that Downton had taken over had been sorely neglected during the war, beset with dilapidated structures and tracts of land already reverting back to wilderness. New drainage schemes had to be implemented as many of the existing drains were no longer viable. Water meadows that were intentionally flooded by diverting water through a network of sluices and ditches in order to fertilize them had been abandoned in many instances, resulting in poor crop yields, if any.

There were endless hours of work tending to overgrown bushes, sagging roofs, rotting thatch, unpainted gates, and an ever increasing population of rabbits that decimated the crops that did grow. Adding to their woes was the substantial amount of money needed to purchase the machinery that would be needed to modernize Downton: tractors, plows, grain drills, corn planters and mechanical cultivators that could be driven through closely spaced rows. The mechanized equipment required trained men that could operate it, who at the time were not in abundance and, therefore, came at a high cost.

Then there were the ever rising taxes to contend with: land tax, income tax, and the dreaded death tax. They had gratefully escaped the latter when he was discovered alive but there was no help for it when Robert passed on.

At their peak, taxes rose to 30% of their income, almost a death blow to an estate trying to keep its head above water. Yet that was needed in order for the government to be able to provide the million citizens that were unemployed with food, shelter and health care.

There were times when the obstacles that Downton faced seemed insurmountable to him, but Matthew never gave up hope that the agricultural industry would make a comeback, and thankfully it did in 1931 when Britain abandoned its long standing commitment to free trade, placing tariffs on a number of products such as wheat, soft fruit and potatoes. That, combined with agricultural subsidies and the abandonment of the gold standard, led to British exports becoming more competitive on world markets, which in turn led to profit.

In retrospect, it had taken ingenuity, dedication, resolve and a healthy injection of capital from the Earl's sale of the della Francesca to keep his plan and Downton alive. Thankfully, with Tom at his side each step of the way and Robert's support, the vision he had laid out for Mr. Jarvis and his father-in-law more than a decade ago did come to fruition.

Downton no longer relied on anyone's inheritance to remain solvent and Tom Branson played a huge role in making it so, a fact Matthew felt certain was not lost on the Earl.

Tom and Sybil's daughter brought the two men closer, too. As Sybbie grew, so did the relationship between her father and grandfather, nurtured by their abiding love and concern for her. Now nearly 14 years after the youngest Crawley daughter's agonizing death before their eyes as a result of childbirth, the men who loved her the most while she lived were as much family as if they had been born into it, no doubt making Sybil smile down upon them from heaven.

"Excuse me my Lord, a special delivery packet has arrived for Mr. Crawley," broke through Matthew's musings as the head butler, Thomas Barrow, planted himself between him and the Earl.

Robert nodded his head and the somber faced servant handed him a large envelope that had been stamped numerous times from what appeared to be varying locations.

Taking in Thomas's appearance in the brightly lit room, he could not help but notice his once dark black hair was spattered with grey, now nearly white at the temples. It led to his wondering how old he was and he quickly made a rough calculation based on what he perceived to be the then footman's age when they shared tea in a fox hole nearly 16 years earlier and arriving at 41.

It still surprised him that Thomas held the lofty position of butler, considering how many times he had been on the verge of being sacked in the last two decades.

He vividly recalled the time when then head butler, Charles Carson had discovered that Barrow had been stealing wine from the cellar. Though he initially blamed John Bates, Robert's valet, of the wrongdoing, the truth was eventually uncovered, proving the footman to be a liar as well as a thief. That peccadillo resulted in Thomas offering his resignation before formerly getting sacked as he had enlisted in what he thought would be a safe position in the army working with the family physician turned Major Clarkson when the Great War began.

Barrow's next close call came when the war ended along with his overseeing the rehabilitation of wounded soldiers who were recuperating at Downton. His military service over, Thomas decided to go into the black market and had provided Mrs. Patmore with a sampling of his merchandise to secure her as a customer. No fool, the cook tasted the products he had supplied her and quickly discovered they were not what they were purported to be, leading to both her and Thomas concluding they had been had.

Once more, Barrow was asked to leave Downton, but having no where to go and no means of support, he pleaded for more time. Then the Spanish flu rescued him from his fate as tragedy befell Downton and he took advantage of the situation by proving himself invaluable while many of the servants were unable to perform their duties.

Last but not least, Thomas was accused of making a sexual advance to another footman, Jimmy Kent. Unbeknownst to either of the two men, but later discovered by John Bates, Miss O'Brien, Cora's lady's maid, had orchestrated that fiasco. That detail prompted the valet to feel sympathy for the accused and the Earl to consider sending him packing a third time. However, Thomas was rescued by Bates, whose honor led him to bring his employer up to speed on what had transpired and urge him to keep the footman on in spite of his personal animosity for the man.

Now, taking the envelope form the butler's hand, it occurred to him that Thomas Barrow was quite like the proverbial cat with 9 lives. That brought a smile to his face as well as gratitude that since Mr. Carson had retired due to his becoming afflicted with "the palsy", the cat had kept his nose clean.

Matthew did not envy Robert the position of having to a terminate any servant, no matter the cause, and knowing that duty would fall on his shoulders once he became Earl of Grantham, he knew he would find it difficult to let go of Thomas should he give him reason as he had such a long history at Downton, albeit a blemished one.

In spite of his past mistakes, both he and Robert had found Barrow's performance exemplary since he stepped into Carson's shoes, though he never could quite fill them. No one could, really. Charles Carson was irreplaceable to all those who knew him.

"We'll be out of here in a few minutes, Mr. Barrow," Robert said. Then giving his statement a second thought, he turned to him and Tom and smiled, "That is if you two have had your fill."

Seeing the two of them nodding their heads in unison, the Earl directed the butler, "Very well, then. You can have one of the maids come in to clear the room."

No sooner had Mr. Barrow passed through the threshold of the door, than the packet he held in his hand became the center of attention. Tom was straining his eyes again, this time to decipher the return address on the envelope that was obscured by his thumb and Robert doing his best to avert his eyes, having learned at an early age that it was rude to invade another person's privacy.

He found that, Tom, however, had no such reservation as he bounded out of his chair and stood once more over his shoulder, thankfully without any food in his hands this time, in an effort to get a better look.

"It's from Martha Levinson," he said, putting and end to the suspense. "Mailed from her Newport address." he added with a bewildered expression on his face as he met Robert's eyes.

The Earl sighed, "What the devil is that woman up to now?"

Wondering the same thing, he replied, "Well, there is only one way to find out," and tore the top flap of the envelope open, emptying its contents out onto a clear spot on the dining table.

A smaller envelope addressed to Mr. Matthew Crawley; a second to Lady Mary Crawley; and a third unaddressed but containing a written instruction on its face that it should only be opened by Matthew and Mary Crawley after they had read their individual letters and were together in a private setting now lay before them.

Matthew blinked, finding himself momentarily at a loss for words as he assessed the situation at hand. Then he turned to Robert, who clearly was piqued by his mother-in-law's mysterious correspondence.

"Well…," Tom said, cutting to the chase. "Are you going to open the letter that is addressed to you or just sit there and let all our imaginations run wild?"

"Tom…!" Robert bellowed. "Perhaps Matthew might want some privacy to read his letter. We should leave him to it."

"No….no, I actually do not," he declared. "I can't remember the last time I've spoken to Martha and don't recall every receiving correspondence from her. Please stay…both of you. I may need your support."

The Earl nodded his head while a wide grin spread over Tom's face, making it clear he found the bit of drama Mrs. Levinson had brought to Downton that morning amusing.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, Matthew reached for one of the unused knives that lay within his reach and sliced through the envelope that was addressed to him. Then he began reading the missive out loud.

 _Dear Matthew,_

 _If you have gotten this far, I have no doubt you are not only perplexed as to why I have written to you and Mary but are quite curious as to the contents of the third envelope that comes with implicit instructions that I know you will follow._

 _Mary has told me how much you enjoy a good mystery and I believe this one will put that keen mind of yours through its paces until my granddaughter returns from London._

Raising his eyes from the letter, Matthew said, "Well, she must have spoken to Cora or Mary recently or wouldn't know about that. I wonder if either of them knows any more than we do."

Tom rolled his eyes, "I'd say the odds are good considering we know nothing. Keep reading."

Returning to the letter, he muttered, "Right. Now where was I?" before he began scanning the page with his index finger in order to find where he had left off and continuing.

 _I feel it only fair to caution you, however, that even someone with your superior intellect will not be able to deduce what is in store for you and my eldest granddaughter. Trust me on this one._

 _Set your mind at ease, however, that there is no ominous reason for my reaching out to you and Mary in this manner. In fact, I think you both will both be quite pleased when you learn what I have in mind as I've come up with a doozy of a plan this time._

 _Now, I suggest you deposit these letters on that fancy heirloom desk that you and Robert like so much in the library and get on with your day. All will be revealed soon enough._

 _In closing, please give my love to Cora and let her know that I am sorry that her sciatica is acting up again._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _Martha_

 _P.S. Since Robert is no doubt peering over your shoulder, I must share that I have read that losing one's temper is detrimental to the well-being of anyone that has an ulcer as it tends to aggravate it. I hope he will keep that in mind once the cat is out of the bag._

At that, Matthew folded the letter and placed in back in the envelope before turning to his companions and sighing, "Well, that's that."

"That's what?" Tom said, shaking his head in confusion. "Do you have a clue what this is about?"

"It is about my mother-in-law insinuating herself into our lives once more in order to amuse herself," Robert spat. "Either that or she is becoming feeble minded in her old age. No matter which, I am sorry she has set her sights on you and Mary, Matthew," he added, looking grim.

He did his best to ease his father-in- law's mind, reminding him that he and Mary were made of stern stuff and too smart to be drawn into one of Martha's schemes, whatever she had in mind.

That seemed to calm the Earl as well as Tom, who no longer seemed to find the situation amusing as he had earlier, perhaps owing to Mrs. Levinson's foreboding words regarding Robert's ulcer.

At that, a comely woman with red hair beneath her maid's cap popped her head through the door to check to see if the room was empty, causing all three men to make haste in order that she may clean the mess they had made.

Matthew rose from his seat and turned, his eyes drawn by a ray of sun to the portrait of the First Earl, who appeared to be smiling down at him. He blinked before quickly deducing that what he saw was an optical illusion, a result of the light hitting the painting at a certain angle. Either that or he had reached the point where spectacles were in order. Even so, he returned the Earl's smile before motioning to his brother-in-law to take the lead.

Following behind him, he decided he would have him take a gander at the books. Though the estate manager's assumption had been correct regarding his having done so already, it would make him happy to see Tom's reaction upon discovering the profit they had made the month before.

As for the mystery laid at his feet by Martha Levinson, it would wait until Mary returned from London as was requested. Although he was quite curious as to what his wife's American grandmother had in store for them, he resolved to do his best to not dwell on it.

Then the three men who were brought together by fate to ensure Downton stand the test of time walked out into the sunlight to face whatever challenges the new day had in store for them, together.

AN: This story is going to be a "doozy" as Martha Levinson would say that will take Matthew and Mary on quite an adventure as well as some changes (both welcome and not) for the Crawleys and those in their sphere. I hope you will stay with it.

I enjoy weaving historical facts into my stories In this one, the newspaper articles reporting Kipling's award and the Loch Ness sighting, including the photograph were printed The agricultural details and taxes mentioned also accurate for this period in time. There will be ,any more facts intertwined with fiction throughout

As is always the case, I give Julian Fellowes credit for the characters and world he created and the rest to my imagination and history.

 **Finally, a review goes a long way in motivating any fan fiction writer in getting on with it!**


	2. Chapter 2

In spite of his resolve not to dwell on the mystery that Mary's American grandmother had laid at his feet, Matthew sat at the "fancy desk" she had referred to in her letter doing just that. He stared intently at the two sealed white envelopes that lay before him on the mahogany Carlton Desk, aptly named as it had belonged to the Prince of Wales when he resided in Carlton House, his London home in 1790, pondering their contents.

During the last half hour, his analytical mind had provided him with a variety of possibilities that could account for Martha Levinson reaching out to him and Mary. The first was that she needed the two of them to chair some charity event she found worthwhile, being unable to take on the role herself due to her advanced age.

This theory was supported by the sizeable donation she made to the Home for Female Orphans in London, her generosity prompted by her learning that a good deal of the institution's financial support was lost when it became public knowledge that the girls were being taught to dance and act in plays.

Martha was so outraged that she had demanded the headmaster of the orphanage provide her with the names of those who withdrew their subscriptions with the intent to give each one a "piece of her mind". Much to her chagrin, she was informed that even though her donation was greatly appreciated, her request could not be granted due to privacy regulations.

After giving that scenario further thought, Matthew decided that although this proved to be a plausible explanation as to why he and Mary were contacted, it did not explain why they were sent two separate letters or instructed to open the third together in private. Why all the secrecy if Martha was only petitioning them to act on her behalf in championing one of her causes?

Scrapping that idea, he then pondered if she might be planning a trip to Downton despite her physician's edict that she no longer travel abroad. He wouldn't put in past her to ignore her doctor's directive. If so, she would need someone on the inside, so to speak, to assist her with her trip while keeping the wool over her daughter's eyes until it was too late for Cora to stop her.

Taking it a step further, he hypothesized that Martha might want them to accompany her to destinations unknown at present in England or perhaps the Continent when she tired of the Crawleys at large.

Yet she had to know that her daughter would not close Downton's door to her should she be that determined to visit, even without her doctor's approval. It was also unlikely that he and Mary would have been the elder woman's first choice as confidantes or companions should she desire to travel to London, Paris or Berlin, her favorites in days gone by. It made much more sense that she would have reached out to his mother, having claimed Isobel a kindred spirit on more than one occasion and knowing she not only was free to travel but had medical training should it be needed.

Picking up one of the envelopes, he tapped the desk with one corner and then rotated it from one end to another as he formulated one last possibility. Martha Levinson might be seeking help for her son, Harold. After all, Mary's uncle did seem to have a knack of getting himself into sticky situations. The Teapot Dome Scandal in '22 came to mind.

As he recalled, his father-in-law had been enlisted to vouch for Harold's behavior before a special committee in Washington, D.C., who was investigating whether he, along with the Secretary of Interior, had bribed a U.S. Senator in order to secure petroleum reserves in Wyoming and California. Could it be that Mary's uncle had gotten himself in hot water again and his mother was reluctant to ask Robert for assistance this time, knowing his health had faltered in the last year?

"No, that can't be it," he spat out and then grimaced, realizing he was now talking to himself. Martha had assured him in her letter that the reason she was contacting him and Mary was not ominous. If Harold were in some kind of peril, the situation would be just that. She had stated they would be pleased upon learning of what she had in store for them. Neither he nor his wife would find Uncle Harold being in jeopardy a pleasing prospect.

He shook his head in exasperation, tossing the envelope back on the desk as he echoed his father-in-law's words, "What the devil is that woman up to?"

Engrossed as he was in his musings, Matthew hadn't notice anyone enter the room and was completely taken by surprise when he heard his son ask, "Whom are you referring to, Father?"

Startled by the intrusion, he jumped in his seat before he turned toward the familiar voice, finding his first born standing three feet away from him with a perplexed look on his face and his hands behind his back.

"George," he sputtered, before fully regaining his composure. "I'm sorry, Son. I didn't realize that you were standing there."

"It is I who must apologize, Sir," the tall, lanky adolescent replied in a tone quite serious for a 12 year old. "It seems I've come at an inopportune time," he added, his blue eyes fixed on the unopened correspondence that sat before his father on the desk.

"Nonsense," Matthew replied with a broad smile. "I'm glad you have done so as I needed to put an end to my speculation regarding a matter that has needlessly driven me to distraction and will be resolved as soon as your mother returns from London."

Taking note of the anxious expression on his offspring's face and quickly deducing the root of it, he informed George that the woman he had heard him grumbling about when he entered the room was not Mary.

George relaxed instantly and smiled, "In that case, I've come to show you something."

Matthew followed suit, grinning broadly as he caught sight of a silver object jutting out from behind the lad's back. Knowing that his son had been working diligently on assembling a model airplane for the past week, he ventured a guess and asked, "Is the Spirit of St. Louis ready to fly?"

"How did you…?" George began and then started to laugh as he followed his father's gaze and found his answer. He then brought the model plane into full view and lamented, "I fear I am not very good at hiding things."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Matthew contradicted in a playful tone. "I seem to recall your hiding your favorite cookies in your pillow case when you were a good bit younger and no one was the wiser until one of the maid's informed Mrs. Hughes what you were up to. Your mother and I had feared you had a poor appetite since you rarely finished your meals and were about to consult a physician. Luckily, the head housekeeper informed us that an abundance of crumbs had been discovered in your bed before we had you physically examined."

Color rose to George's cheeks and he lowered his eyes, fixing them on one of the pale green and gold palms beneath his feet, the design fixing the Persian rug's place of origin. He shuffled back and forth, his highly polished and tightly laced black shoes glistening in the sunlight that beamed through the windows and casting a substantial shadow over the carpeting as his feet were quite large for a boy his age.

Being blessed with his father's sense of humor, it did not take him long to raise his head and chuckle as he revisited that moment in time, recalling that his sole mission had been to garner as many cookies as possible before his caretaker discovered he was missing.

"Mrs. Patmore never could resist my pleas for baked goods," he smiled. "She would hand me a cookie and then stuff another in each of my pockets. Then she would pat me on my bottom and send me off with one of the maids to the nursery.

"That doesn't surprise me one bit…," Matthew exclaimed. "The servants would jump through hoops if you had asked them to. They all adored you, George, especially Mr. Carson. Though he was a stickler for rules if I ever saw one, he turned a blind eye to your antics...and I often found Mr. Barrow carrying you around the house on his shoulders while you yelled 'Giddyap' as though he were your personal pony."

George grinned, "I find I must agree with you, Father. Then, his mood turned somber and he sighed, "I miss her."

"I know you do, Son," Matthew said soothingly. "She was a kind, caring woman who served our family well. I dare say her absence is felt by many under Downton's roof as well as in the Village."

He then turned his attention to the model plane in his son's hands, taking note of the expert craftsmanship, which contrasted sharply with the clay horse sculpture he eyed a few feet away, a gift from George on his 40th birthday. It appeared to have five legs, though Mary had explained the fifth appendage was the horse's tail, and the animal's body was woefully out of proportion. No matter, he had displayed it proudly from that day forward and it remained his favorite piece of art at Downton.

Extending his hand in his son's direction, he asked, "If I promise to be extremely careful in handling it, will you allow me a closer look, George?"

"Of course, Father," he replied quickly, producing the miniature replica of the plane Charles Lindbergh made history piloting from New York to Paris in 1927, the first successful trans-Atlantic crossing by air.

On that historic day, George Crawley was only 6 year's old, much too young to comprehend the significance of what had transpired and how it would change the world. Yet, his fascination with aeronautics had already taken root two years earlier when he attended the first of many Hendon Air Shows that he would with his father.

As Matthew held his son's latest project, an image of his face the first time he saw a fleet of biplanes flying overhead in formation popped into his head and he couldn't help but smile. Completely mesmerized by the spectacle, the young boy's eyes had remained wide and mouth hung open even after the pass was completed and he had to nudge him to bring him out of his trance. From that moment on, George was enthralled with air flight and soon his Hornby electric train set gathered dust, replaced by a small model plane aptly named a FROG, as it "flew right off the ground."

"It is magnificent, Son," he said, running his index finger gently over the wing with NYP27 boldly blazoned on it, signifying New York to Paris and the year. George had captured every minute detail perfectly from the gun metal color of the propeller to the tiny flags that adorned the right side of the engine cowling, each one representing a country that the "Spirit" had visited during Lindbergh's tour of Latin America that same year.

Hearing his father's praise, George beamed, "Thank you, Father. I think it is my best work yet."

Matthew agreed wholeheartedly with him. Though his son's bedroom housed an impressive collection of miniature cars, trains, ships and especially aircraft that he had assembled over the years, none of his Dinky construction toys lit a candle to this.

George then elaborated on the intricacies of the replica as he highlighted each one with his index finger, downplaying how difficult it was to work with some parts that were as small as the head of a nail when Matthew asked him how he had managed it.

"You must have a steady hand and a great deal of patience in order to get it right, and I have found I have both," he replied. Then seeing his father nodding his head in agreement, he added "From what I've seen, I believe I may have inherited those traits from you."

Grateful for the compliment, Matthew thanked George before suggesting that it was quite possible that his own father was the root of their good fortune as he had found Reginald Crawley incorporated both in his work as a physician.

Gingerly placing the model on the desk, effectively covering the unopened letters that had been vexing him, the future Earl rose out of his chair and motioned for his son to follow him. Then, as the two of them slowly made their way to one of the red sofas before the fireplace, Matthew touched upon some of the physician's work.

Once seated, he expounded on his father's research into childhood infectious diseases, a well placed topic since the reason George and Victoria were not in school in Harrogate at the moment was due to an outbreak of measles. The illness had spreapd so quickly that the preparatory schools ended their semesters early in order to contain it.

While heralding the benefits of vaccinations, such as the one given to prevent whooping cough that was discovered in 1925, he was interrupted by Thomas Barrow, who had come as requested to advise him that Lady Mary and Miss Victoria had returned from London.

Hearing this announcement, George shot up from his seat as though it had suddenly caught fire and sped to the desk to retrieve his plane. Then with the Spirit of St. Louis safely in hand, he turned to his father and asked for permission to go to his room.

Matthew remained nonplussed for a moment until he deciphered his son's behavior. Victoria, two year's younger than her brother, was a bit clumsy and had in the past unintentionally damaged more than one of her brother's models. Clearly, George had not wanted to tempt fate again.

Though he had no doubt that George sought his mother's opinion and praise regarding his work, his sister's hand's on approach in viewing his projects was another matter altogether.

He nodded and smiled, "Of course, you may, George." Then seeing him scamper across the room, he brought him to an abrupt halt with, "However, please take a moment to greet your mother and sister on your way up."

Acknowledging his father's request with a tip of the head, George crossed the room with alacrity and grinned at Mr. Barrow before inching past him and taking flight.

Matthew rose from the sofa as, "Welcome home, Mother….You, too, Victoria," floated through the doorway, followed by what could easily be attributed to the sound of stampeding cattle, but was in actuality George bounding up the stairs that led to the Gallery.

The heir presumptive and servant stood frozen, their attention focused on the hubbub outside the room until it subsided. Then they turned and faced one another. Matthew shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh while Mr. Barrow stood stoically in place, biting his lip in order keep his composure.

Taking note that the servant was losing his battle, he dismissed him with, "That will be all, Mr. Barrow," his own features alight with amusement.

He remained behind a few seconds, chuckling over his first born child's antics. Then he made his way to the Great Hall to give his wife and daughter a proper welcome.

XX

As he entered the hall, Matthew found Mary standing at the foot of the grand oak staircase, handing Miss Baxter, the lady's maid she shared with her mother, her hat and gloves. The hat was particularly becoming on her, the deep green felt rim upturned at the back while the front slanted down over one eye, lending an air of mystery to her lovely face.

The remainder of her ensemble suited her nicely, too; a chic green and white checkered peplum jacket, the squares so tiny that the colors appeared blended until you were close enough to differentiate them. The stylish top nipped at her narrow waist and hugged her hips as it draped over a solid green skirt that fell to her calves. A small slit on each side gave him a glimpse of her shapely legs, made even more so by high heel shoes that had been dyed the exact color of her hat.

Taking in his wife's appearance, he was grateful that the styles that dominated the '20s were over. He had never cared for the boxy shapes of the dresses that hid the figures beneath them, especially Mary's. The new designs were much more to his liking as they showcased her still hour glass figure.

Mary removed her jacket and adjusted the wide bow on the white blouse she wore beneath it and turned to find her husband eyeing her appreciatively.

"I'm glad you like it," she said as she moved closer to him, taking hold of his hands and giving him a quick peck in greeting. Then as though reading his mind, she said, "Yes, it is new, but don't worry. It is a knockoff."

Matthew grinned, "I wasn't worried at all, darling. In fact, even if it were an original, I couldn't bring myself to complain about the cost as you look so stunning in it. I'm so happy to see you, Mary. I've missed you."

"Well, if this is the type of reception I can look forward to upon my return, I must make it a point to travel to London more often," she teased.

They laughed as they broke apart and Mary moved to the stairs, placing one foot on the first step and her hand on the newel post of the banister.

Taking his eyes off his wife for the first time since he entered the room, Matthew took notice that their daughter was no where to be seen.

"Where did Victoria go off to? I'm sure I heard George greet her as he dashed to his room with his new model plane."

Before responding to his question, she answered one of her own, "So that is why he ran past the two of us at lightening speed. He wanted to put some distance between his latest project and his sister."

"Well, I don't think we can blame him after the last mishap, darling. Do you?"

Mary shook her head back and forth and chuckled, "Victoria is a bit of a klutz." Then in a serious tone added, "Though we must do everything in our power to convince her otherwise and hope she will outgrow it. We don't want her self-esteem to suffer."

He nodded in agreement, hoping that over time Victoria would come to possess the poise and grace that her mother exhibited so easily. Over the years, he had seen more than one aristocrat behave cruelly toward an individual who did not meet their high standards. He did not want his daughter to be hurt by some boorish prig snickering behind her back because she knocked over a vase or dropped her fork at dinner.

"As for our lovely daughter," Mary continued, "Papa was headed out the door with Horus for a walk when we arrived and she begged me to allow her to go with them. Ordinarily, I would have insisted that she change out of her travel clothes first, but it was clear that my father was in a foul mood and I thought she might cheer him up. He barely said a word to mother or me; just scowled. I decided then and there that it would be worth replacing Victoria's dress, if need be, in order to lift his spirits. If there is anyone at Downton who can cheer Papa up, she can. Do you have any thing idea what is wrong with him, Matthew? He seemed fine when we left for London."

That set him off. He did know what was wrong with his father-in law as it was the same thing that was wrong with him at that very moment. It was those cursed letters from Martha Levinson that had cast a gloom over Mary's return, and he feared the worst was yet to come.

"I do know why he is out of sorts, darling," Matthew grimaced. "Some correspondence has arrived for you…for us…that I have no doubt is at the root of your father's agitation. I'll address it with you after you've freshened up."

Seeing the cheerful expression on Mary's face quickly replaced by anxiety, he assured her it was nothing for her to worry about and changed the subject, insisting she give him all the details of her excursion.

After examining him closely and determining that she could take him at his word, she smiled, "I had a lovely time, Matthew. We all did. The dress fittings couldn't have gone smoother…Catherine is going to take Tom's breath away when he sees her come down the aisle. Her gown is exquisite…the embroidery on the bodice a work of art, and she looks like royalty in it…as does your erstwhile nurse in the pale blue gown she will be wearing. Lilian sends her love, by the way, along with an admonishment from her and Joseph over your absence as of late…and I can't say I blame them for being piqued. You've been terribly remiss in socializing with the Cosgroves, darling. Why, I think it has been close to a month since you last spoke to either of them…And after all, she did nurse you back to health in London after your accident the day George was born. On top of that, Joseph spent over a year combing the countryside for Scotland Yard as well as in his free time in an attempt to uncover your identity while you suffered amnesia. You were the best man at their wedding and…"

"Darling, please stop," Matthew pleaded, breaking her off. "You don't have to list any further reasons why I should renew my ties with the Cosgroves. I feel awful that it has been so long since I have connected with them," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "In my defense, however, I've been up to my eyeballs in contract negotiations. Yet you are right and I vow I will do better from now on. You know how much my adopted London family means to me," he added with conviction.

Mary nodded, "I do know," before placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Soothed by her touch, his mood lightened and he spouted, "You didn't mention Alison. Did Lilian and Joseph's daughter go with you to the dress fitting? And how are Dr. Head and Ruth doing? Did you get to spend much time with them?"

Mary addressed her husband's questions in rapid succession, first replying, "Alison had her dress fitted already and was at school when we arrived, as was Edith's daughter, Vivienne. Thankfully, there has been no outbreak of measles in London. Ruth looked a bit worn out, but I think that is to be expected considering the time and effort she expends daily in assisting Lilian with Henry's care. I think both women have been working harder than ever as his condition has worsened."

At that Matthew frowned, clearly disturbed that the physician who saved his life when he was Patient #9 in the Head Trauma Ward at the London Hospital and taken him into his home when he was discharged with no knowledge of his own was clearly losing his battle with Parkinson's Disease.

Seeing the distress on her husband's face, Mary changed tack and reported, "Sybbie took a keen interest in Henry's condition. In fact the two of them spent a considerable amount of time discussing his ailment after she informed him of her desire to pursue a career in medicine. His eyes lit up when she informed him that she wants to become an obstetrician in order to do whatever she can to lessen the risks associated with childbirth.

They both smiled then and spoke of how proud Sybil must be of her daughter as she looked down upon her from heaven. That acknowledgement prompted Mary to dab at her eyes and Matthew, upon clearing his throat, to request that she continue with her account of her excursion.

After taking a few moments to reign in her emotions, Mary continued cataloging the events that had transpired in London.

The Downton group met with Edith and the Londoners, as she and Matthew playfully referred to Lilian Pomeroy, her sister Catherine Moore and Henry and Ruth Head, in their home in Eaton Square, where they spent a good hour catching up on what was new in their respective lives. Then they had headed to fashion designer Norman Hartnell's new salon in Mayfair

"I wish you could have seen it, Matthew," she said, bubbling with excitement. "The entire room is lined with glass mirrors and fine art. I dare say it is considered the height of modernity by those who frequent the establishment."

Then she went on to say that Hartnell was a protégée of the celebrated Lucile and offered, "You may remember me mentioning her name to you when Edith was set to marry Anthony Strallan, darling, as Granny had offered to pay for her to design her wedding gown. However, Mama and Edith nixed the idea, which was just as well since my grandmother was spared the hefty cost she would have incurred for a jilted bride." A flash of anger crossed her eyes before Mary continued, "Lucile was later sued by Hartnell for damages, as she had represented several of his drawings as her own in "The Sketch".

Matthew was not surprised to hear about the lawsuit as he remembered discussing it with some of his colleagues at Harville & Carter when the case made the headlines. Nasty business, he thought as the details filled his head before his wife's voice broke him out of his musings.

Edith offered Mr. Hartnell space in her publication to promote his new line at no cost as she had felt badly that the Sketch had caused him harm, albeit unwittingly, and not only did he accept her offer but graciously countered with one of his own - a substantial reduction in the cost of not only Catherine's wedding gown but of her wedding party, as well.

"Can you believe our good fortune? Not only will we will all be wearing Norman Hartnell originals, but our gowns featured in one of the "The Sketch's" September publications. I have to admit, I'm quite impressed by the way Edith managed the whole affair," she said with pride. "My sister can be quite brilliant at times…though you didn't hear that from me," she added quickly.

The dress fittings complete, they all headed to Edith and Evelyn's townhouse for luncheon, where they were warmly greeted by the 5th Viscount Branksome before he headed out the door to a meeting. Once they had their fill of Shepherd's pie, Victoria and Sybbie had begged, and she had relented, that they go to Gunter's Tea House for ice cream.

"The streets were bustling with the activity of the Season, Matthew. I think the sight of the young debutantes on parade in their finest left quite an impression on the girls, especially Sybbie, as she will come out in four short years."

"Ahh…the Season…I remember it well," Matthew said with dramatic flair. "Young lady's riding in Hyde Park between 10 and 2, elegantly dressed in their smartest riding habits with their fathers in tow on Rotten Row or the Ladies Mile, their hooks baited to snare a desirable husband…cricket matches, promenades in the park, dramatic matinees, polo, tennis, lawn bowling, archery, picnics and parties and above all, the races. After all, what would life be without The Ascot or The Derby for that matter? The London marriage market would go down in flames."

Mary couldn't help but laugh; her perspective with regard to the London Season was now quite different than it had been when she was presented to his Majesty, King Edward VII, in 1909. She had lived through a great war since then and its aftermath as well as the loss of her husband, whom she had believed to be dead for over a year, though it had felt like an eternity.

"Quite right," she agreed and began giggling before wincing in pain and informing him that her shoes were mercilessly pinching her toes. She had to get out of them.

Matthew placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her up the first few steps, insisting that she take as much time as she needed to refresh herself after her long train ride and then reiterating his promise that he would join her in their room shortly.

She nodded and smiled before continuing her ascent with alacrity, the offensive heels leaving a miniscule indentation on the red carpeting that lined the stairway in her wake.

Once he saw his wife reach the Gallery that led to their bedroom, Matthew turned to make his way to the library but was quickly forestalled when the front door flew open and Tom rushed in like a gust of wind.

"Matthew, you must come quickly," he choked out between gasps. Then coming closer, he took hold of his upper arm and pulled him toward the still open door, adding, "Victoria needs you."

XX

If the sun hadn't been in his eyes, Matthew would have had a clear view of his daughter lying on the ground a few yards away from Jackdaws Castle, kicking her legs in the air and screaming her head off. The latter was painfully clear, the sound of Victoria's cries reaching his ears quickly as he and Tom raced across the lush green lawn that separated the folly from the house.

The other sounds permeating the air were that of Horus barking wildly and his father-in-law shouting commands at the dog.

Heavily winded, though not as badly as Tom, who had made the trip twice, he reached his wailing child in what he considered record speed for someone his age. Then he quickly assessed the scene before him.

Robert had Horus by the collar and was pulling him away from Victoria, reprimanding him for his bad behavior, though Matthew soon discovered the dog had only followed his natural instincts. The Labrador had caught sight of a rabbit and chased it across the grounds into its hole. Left to his own devices, he would have either killed it or found it had bored down too deeply into the ground for him to reach it and headed for greener pastures, so to speak.

However, Horus faced an obstacle to his desire in the form of a 10 year old girl whom he had loved from the moment he laid eyes upon her, a child he would lay down his life for without hesitation if need be in order to protect, but who now was blocking his way. What recourse did he have but to bark and nudge her aside?"

"Father, make him stop," Victoria cried out, seeing him looming over her. "He wants to hurt the rabbit."

At that the Earl of Grantham, looking quite disheveled as a result of his attempts to drag his 70 lb dog away from its prey, interjected, "Tom, help me get Horus back to the house so that Victoria will stand up and calm down."

Bent over with his hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath, Tom managed to eek out, "I think that is an excellent idea, Robert. I'm in dire need of a cool drink and I'm sure Matthew would like a private moment with his daughter. I also need to telephone my own as she had decided to stay on at Edith's for a few days." Then he moved to his father-in-law's side and relieved him, taking hold of the dog's collar and giving it a good tug as he demanded, "Let's go, Horus. It is time to go home now, boy."

Worn out by his tug of war with his owner and by the looks of it, in need of a cool drink, himself, the Labrador complied.

Seeing the dog move away from his daughter, Matthew let out a sigh of relief and thanked Robert and Tom for their efforts as they set off for Downton. Then he turned to address Victoria.

She had raised herself up on her elbows and would not budge until she saw that her grandfather, uncle and Horus were half way to the house. Then she pushed herself off the ground and ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as she began to sob.

"Now, now, it is alright, sweetheart," Matthew said soothingly, his hand resting lightly on the back of her head while he placed a kiss on it. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Victoria. I'm here now and I'm going to take you home."

"Oh, Father, it was awful," she hiccupped. "Horus…he…he spotted the rabbit and took off after it. I ran as fast as I could to stop him but I couldn't catch up. Then…then he stood over the hole and started to dig at it. I tried with all my strength to push him away but he didn't budge. He just kept barking like mad and jumping up and down. I've never seen him act that way before. I decided the only way to save the rabbit was if I blocked the hole with my body and managed to squeeze underneath his belly. He didn't like that and barked even louder, hitting me with his paws even though Grandfather was pulling him back and telling him to _stop this nonsense at once_ in his stern voice…you know the one he always apologizes for when he uses it….but Horus paid him no mind. He just kept barking and jumping. Then Uncle Tom showed up and Grandfather told him to get you...and…and…well, I'm so glad you came."

His heart swelled with love as he looked into his daughter's blue eyes, still filled with tears after her ordeal. Taking his handkerchief from the pocket of his suit jacket, he dabbed at her tears along with the smudges of dirt on her face and asked, "Are you hurt, sweetheart? I can see Horus scratched you here and there, but he didn't bite you, did he?"

Victoria shook her head, a long strand of hair the exact color of Mary's that had escaped from her braid whipping back and forth, and sniffled, "No, he didn't and I don't think he meant to scratch me, either. Please don't be angry with him, Father. I do love him so."

Matthew assured her that he was not upset with Horus and that he doubted he would be severely reprimanded for his actions. "Perhaps he will not be allowed out without being on a leash for a short period of time. Put your mind at ease, sweet girl."

She nodded and smiled in his direction, easing his own before he continued, "Now, young lady, I want you to promise me that you will never put yourself in harm's way as you did today ever again. You could have been seriously hurt in Horus's attempt to get to what he considers prey. That is what a rabbit is to him, Victoria, even though you don't see it that way. Do you understand?"

It pained him to say it as he knew a small piece of his daughter's innocence was lost with his words. In the story books that he read to her, the lions and lambs got along famously. Sadly, that was not the case in the real world and today she had to face that harsh reality of life. He wished he could have protected her from it just a bit longer, but there it was.

Victoria crossed her heart and gave him her word that she would not interfere with Horus or any other animal in pursuit of another again.

"I'm sorry, Father," she said solemnly. "I'm afraid I've ruined my dress on top of making you worry…and Mother is going to be quite cross with me."

At that, Matthew, stood up and lifted her into his arms, planting a kiss on the cleaner of her two cheeks, before he replied, "I'll soften her up a bit while you are getting tidied…and don't fret, Victoria. I think your dress is just soiled, not ruined. I'm sure it will look at good as new once it takes a spin in that new washing machine that was delivered last week. I've heard it has worked wonders with your brother's shirts and such."

He felt her body begin to relax, and a moment later, saw her turn her head and heard her begin to giggle. Following her line of vision, he followed suit as he caught sight of the tiny rabbit's head peeping out of the hole Victoria had been guarding. After finding the coast was clear, the creature scrambled out quickly, his ears flopping wildly and white, fluffy tail bouncing like a ball on the green turf until it reached a row of tall Myrtle hedges that lay behind the folly and disappeared.

They both looked at one another and burst into laughter. Then he lifted her into his arms and headed for home, tickling her sides for good measure every yard or so, which caused her to squeal with glee as they crossed the manicured lawn that separated them from the massive stone structure they dwelled in

Winded by excitement and exertion as he reached the front door, Matthew took a deep breath before pushing the door open, hoping that the quandary that awaited him inside would result in as happy an ending as this one had.

XX

Luckily, he ran into Miss Baxter before either Cora or Mary got a glimpse of Victoria in her present state and handed the child over quickly to the lady's maid. Her eyes widened at the sight of her appearance but she didn't ask any question other than if she should call Dr. Clarkson.

"No, she is perfectly fine, Miss Baxter…just a few scratches. The only thing she requires is a bath and change of clothes," he added as he placed his daughter on her feet.

"Your mother and I will come to your room once you are squeaky clean," he smiled, tapping the tip of Victoria's nose with his index finger.

Beaming at her charge, the lady's maid, said, "I will take good care of Miss Victoria, Mr. Crawley." Then she took hold of her hand and led her upstairs to attend to her.

Victoria safe and sound, Matthew headed for the library for the second time that day to retrieve the letters on his desk and bring then to Mary, who he assumed by now was piqued that he was taking so long.

He quickly found his assertion had been correct when he entered their bedroom with the sealed envelopes in hand and found Mary glowering at him from across the room.

"What on earth took you so long?" she demanded. "I was beginning to worry in spite of your assurances," she continued as she rose from the window seat she had been perched on and headed toward him. "You said you would join me shortly, Matthew. That was more than an hour ago."

"I'm sorry, darling. It was not my intention to be so long but Victoria had a mishap and…."

Mary's eyes widened and she headed for the door in an instant, cutting him off with, "Where is she?"

Blocking her path, he replied, "Darling, she is fine. At the moment she is taking a bath. I sent her off with Miss Baxter to get bathed and changed. Victoria didn't want you to see her in her disheveled state."

"Disheveled state? Mary exclaimed. "Why on earth would our daughter be in a disheveled state? She looked perfectly fine when she left the house with Papa. I need you to tell me exactly what happened, Matthew…Now."

"Of course, darling…but I would rather speak to you about Victoria as well as address this correspondence…," he said waiving the two envelopes in front of her, "…seated comfortably beside you instead of standing guard over this door."

After a long moment, Mary sighed, "Yes, alright. We can sit anywhere you please, but please get on with it."

Moving away from his post, Matthew strode over to their bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, placing the missives in his hand to his right and patting the spot to his left invitingly. As soon as Mary joined him, he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Better?" he asked, lowering their joined hands to the bed.

Mary nodded, her eyes fixed on his as she awaited his explanation.

"I could relay every detail of what transpired from the moment I left you until I brought our daughter home, but I think it better that I cut to the chase," he said, and smiled, realizing his impromptu pun. To wit, I was summoned to the Jackson Daws Castle, where our brave but misguided girl had decided that the only way to save a wild rabbit's life was by inserting herself between it and Horus, who was none too pleased by her interference."

At that Mary's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Remember, darling, she is fine," he said, reaching for her hand. "She has a few light scratches on her legs, which I have examined thoroughly and am certain will leave no lasting marks. Her dress, however, didn't fair as well. I'm not at all sure the grass and ground dirt stains can be washed out, even though I assured Victoria they could be as she was worried that you would be cross with her. After her ordeal, I didn't have the heart to tell her the dress would likely have to be chucked."

Hearing her husband's explanation, Mary remained frozen in place, speechless for a long moment as she processed what she had just heard, no doubt visualizing the scene that Matthew had come upon. A shiver ran down her spine and she blinked, shaking her head in an apparent effort to erase the vision of Victoria facing down the large Labrador, likely half out of his wits with blood lust.

Matthew assured her once more, "She is fine, darling. I told her that I would smooth things over with you and we would come to see her in her room once she was spruced up.

Mary sighed, "Thank God she is not seriously hurt, Matthew. I shudder to think of what could have happened. Whatever possessed her to do such a thing? Horus could have….," she began and stopped speaking, shaking her head back and forth.

Matthew interjected, "She didn't think she would be in danger, Mary, and I fear I am partially to blame for that. In the stories I've read to her, the animals live in harmony. None of them maim or kill the other. They share their food… Some of them even have tea parties. This is the first glimpse Victoria has had of the natural order of life in the animal kingdom. Unfortunately, she learned a hard fact the hard way today."

She insisted he not blame himself, reasoning that no-one could have predicted what had happened.

"I will not allow you to feel guilty, darling," Mary said in a tone that made it clear she would brook no argument. The only thing we both should be feeling right now is relief and gratitude. The rest will bring us down and there is no point in that, she said pragmatically. "Now, what do you say, we change the subject and you pass me that envelope at your side with my name on it."

Matthew was happy to do so as he would finally have an answer to the question that had boggled his mind since the letters arrived. Still he lifted the envelope addressed to Mary from the bed as though it weighed more than he did and handed it to her with apprehension marking his handsome features.

"What is it?" she asked. "What is troubling you?"

"I'm thinking of Robert," he replied. "He was in a foul mood when he left the house with Horus. I fear Victoria's escapade has made it worse…and now he has your grandmother's machinations to contend with."

"My grandmother? What has Granny been up to now?" she sighed as she pried open the envelope in her lap.

"Not Violet…," Matthew began, "….though I can't be certain that she isn't plotting something, too; Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time. As far as I know, however, the root of your father's agitation, and to be frank, my own, is your American grandmother." Pointing to the sheaf of paper Mary now held in her hands, he continued, "As you will soon discover, it is Martha Levinson who has been stirring the pot."

Mary frowned, "The envelope states I must read this in private, darling. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

"I know it does," he spat. I have read the cursed instruction at least 10 times in the last day." Then he said with a sardonic tone in his voice, "Do you think your grandmother would mind if we were in the same room together while you did so? I can move to the window seat and bird watch."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure that would be fine, Matthew," before she gave him a light swat on his rump and added, "Off with you then. It appears we've got another envelope to open together after I read this letter, and I must admit my curiosity is getting the better of me."

Raising the missive to eye level, she focused on the first line and instantly heard her grandmother's voice inside her head, the American accent as grating as ever and as clear as if she were sitting beside her.

 _My Dearest Mary,_

 _I would begin by saying I'm sorry for the all the cloak and dagger but the truth is, I'm not, and you know I'm a stickler for telling it like it is. Having said that, I do hope that the plan I'm proposing, which I feel certain you will agree to by the time you reach the end of this letter, won't cause you too much grief. You are undeserving of it, and should you receive any from the Crawleys, I expect you to stand firm and remind them that Lady Mary suffers no fools._

 _That is why I've chosen you, my dear girl. Your spirit and strength do you proud. Well, that, and because you have always been my favorite granddaughter…though I ask you do not share that with Edith. I love her, too; just not as much. In fact, I would like you to keep my plan under wraps until you and Matthew decide whether or not to accept my proposition._

 _On that note, I guess now is as good a time as ever to explain why I've set these wheels in motion. There is no way to sugar coat it, so I'll just say it - I'm dying Mary._

 _I learned quite recently that I have terminal cancer. My diagnosis was confirmed by three top notch doctors, so I have no doubt that what they tell me is true. Each has also advised me that I likely will not see Christmas. I'm hoping to prove them wrong on that one as I know for a fact that your Uncle Harold is going to give me the diamond necklace I've been drooling over at Tiffany's for months as my gift this year and I'd like to wear it while my body is still warm. Sorry, I digress. Now where was I? Ahh…yes…my request._

 _What I would like is for you and Matthew and your precious children to spend my 85th birthday here with me in Newport. Harold has planned a lavish party, including a spectacular fireworks display by Grucci, and a week of fun-filled activities on shore and off for my guests that have been invited to stay on after the party._

 _Rest assured this trip will not feel like an errand of mercy, Mary. You will be traveling like royalty from start to finish on my dime, including the expense to bring one of your servants along with you, and Newport is absolutely beautiful this time of year._

 _I've scheduled five days for your family to spend with me and then made arrangements for you to travel on to Chicago to attend the World's Fair, which I'm sure the children will love._

 _Have you closed your mouth yet, my darling girl? I know you must think I've gone completely off my rocker, but I assure you that is not the case. I just want to spend my last birthday with my family, and sadly my travelling days are far behind me._

 _As for the cost of this excursion, please do not fret about it. At your uncle's suggestion, I invested some money, though no where near the massive amount he did, in a Hollywood film that was produced by a close friend of his, called "King Kong". In case you haven't heard of it, it is about a gigantic ape discovered on some remote island that is captured and brought to New York City. The big gorilla causes a whole lot of trouble before he winds up climbing the Empire State building with a beautiful, half naked young woman in his hand and…Well, I think I better stop there as I wouldn't want to spoil the ending for you. Though I admit the plot sounds ridiculous, the movie made so much money that it saved RKO from going bankrupt. I'll tell you more details when I see you, but the bottom line is Harold has more money than he could spend in two lifetimes and I'm flush with cash, too. Though I wouldn't say the cost of your passage was chump change, it only put a small dent in the return I received on my investment._

 _Right about now, I would imagine you are asking yourself why I have invited you and not your mother. That is a fair question, and I'll do my best to explain why I haven't. If Cora caught wind that I was not long for this earth, she would come to Newport to take care of me. I know my daughter well, Mary. Despite our ups and downs over the years, she loves me as much as I love her and would feel compelled to nurse me until I took my last breath…and that would make my final days unbearable._

 _I don't want my girl to see me waste away or hear me cry out in pain when this nasty disease rears its ugly head. I want your mother to remember me as she saw me last at Edith's wedding - downing a glass of champagne and cutting a rug with Evelyn, who I found to be a surprisingly good dancer. He truly is quite a catch. Though, of course, he can't light a candle to Matthew. No man can. Those eyes!_

 _I think that covers it all. No-one will know that I'm skating on thin ice until I've fallen through it. We will spend a marvelous week together and I'll get to see Matthew in the flesh again after his miraculous resurrection, which still boggles my mind. Plus, I will have the added enjoyment of getting to know my great grandchildren in more than a photograph._

 _You must come, Mary. I know you have a kind heart in spite of the facade you present to the world. Otherwise, Matthew would not worship the ground you walk on as he does._

 _Now, you can share my invitation with that dreamy husband of yours, but nothing else. I haven't decided yet if I will tell him the Grim Reaper will be paying me a visit soon. Honestly, I wouldn't have told you if I could have been sure you would have come without knowing._

 _I'll end this here as I'm sure you and Matthew are anxious to find what that third envelope contains. I think you will be quite pleased once you do._

 _With all my love,_

 _Grandma Levinson_

 _P.S. Fourteen years have passed since I received a letter from you letting me know you had broken your engagement to Richard Carlisle and asking that I put you up for a while as the lout might cause you some trouble. I didn't get a chance then to tell you that I would be thrilled to have you visit, as shortly thereafter I received another letter stating you were set to marry Matthew. You do work fast, my dear._

 _Bottom line - You owe me a visit._

By the time she got to the last line of the letter, Mary's eyes were welled with tears. She dabbed at them before folding it and stuffing it back into the envelope with her name on it.

"I'm done, darling," she said in as normal a tone of voice as she could muster.

Matthew leapt from the window seat and hurried to the bed, where he promptly lifted the remaining envelope, tore it open, and emptied the contents on the bed.

His eyes were drawn quickly to the boarding passes that now lay between him and Mary, an image of a swallow-tailed red pennant that contained a white star with five points in its center and "White Star Line" in tall letters below it. Then his eyes widened as he read R.M.S. Olympic in bold red lettering across the face of the tickets.

"Good God! She has booked passage for us to sail to America," Matthew cried out, clearly flabbergasted.

"Not just passage, Matthew. Grandmother Levinson never was one to skimp," Mary said nonchalantly. "Those are tickets for a parlor suite. They must have cost her a small fortune."

"Well, I hope they are refundable," Matthew said crossly. "What on earth possessed her to do such a thing without consulting us first? Whatever could she have been thinking?"

Mary sighed, "I would imagine she was thinking that she is turning 85 year's in a few weeks and would like to spend some time with her family before it is too late to do so," she replied.

Matthew cocked his head and stared at her for a long moment before he asked, "You aren't seriously considering going, are you?"

She paused a moment, took a deep breath and replied, "Actually, I am, Matthew, and I'd like you to consider it, too. I think it is important that we do."

Honoring her grandmother's wish that her illness remain a secret, Mary launched into other reasons why she thought Martha's invitation should be accepted.

"Darling, she is paying for the entire trip, not only the crossing but transportation from Newport to Chicago and lodging there so that we can attend the World's Fair. Just think of how the children would benefit from the experience."

Matthew could not deny they would, yet he still was reeling from the shock of it all. Perhaps if they had more time to mull it over, but as it was, Martha barely gave them enough time to pack.

"For pity's sake, this is one of our busiest times of year, Mary. What about Downton? Who would fill not only my shoes but yours while we were gone?"

She countered quickly, "Papa would step up to the plate. You know how much he misses being in charge around here. Between him and Tom, I think the estate would run just fine without us for a few weeks."

Not as convinced as his wife, Matthew cautioned, "I think we must ask your father first before assuming he would welcome the work. He isn't as spry as he used to be. As for Tom, I know he will tell us to go with his blessing…and I have no doubt he is up to the task of running the place for a few weeks without us….But why? Why do you want to go? You never showed any interest in visiting Martha before."

Shoving the envelope and its contents out of the way and edging closer to him on the bed, Mary replied flatly, "She never asked before…and I doubt she would now if she didn't have a good reason. Please, Matthew, consider how she must feel so far away from her family and unable to travel to see them. Put yourself in her shoes."

He did then, and for the first time since he learned of Martha Levinson's plan, felt a bit of sympathy for the woman. As he softened over her predicament, he felt a familiar hand resting on his leg, which altered his train of thought considerably.

"Just think of the moonlit strolls we'll take on deck, hand in hand under a cavalcade of stars. It would be like a second honeymoon, darling" Mary purred as she ran her hand up and down the length of his thigh.

That did the trick. Any further objections along with logic flew out the window as memories of their first honeymoon filled his mind. He was putty in Mary's hands. He knew it and she knew it.

"Alright then," he sighed in defeat. "As long as your father is willing to take up the reigns and Tom does feel he can handle the extra load, I'm in."

Mary smiled and moved so close that he could feel her warm breath on his neck.

"I think we have about a half hour before Miss Baxter is done with Victoria, darling. What would you say to our practicing what we'll do on that second honeymoon to ensure it will measure up our first?" she whispered.

Matthew pulled her onto his lap and bringing her hand around his neck, replied, "I'd say practice makes perfect."

XX

The setting for the Crawley's family meeting was tranquil. The drawing room was alight with the rays of sun that streamed into the room and the air filled with the sweet scent of spring flowers, courtesy of one large vase bursting with pink, white and rose-colored peonies and another filled with blue hydrangeas. Yet, as the conversation in the room progressed, the atmosphere was anything but serene.

Mary sat in a wing chair near the massive fireplace in the drawing room with her hands crossed in her lap and eyes fixed on the vein on the side of her father's neck, which had been pulsing like a jackhammer for the last five minutes. That in itself was cause for concern, but adding to her apprehension, she observed that his face had turned an ugly shade of scarlet as he waived the White Star boarding passes in the air while glowering at her mother.

"This….this…," he cried out, his voice hoarse as he had been ranting and raving for the last 10 minutes, "This has got to be the most heavy-handed maneuvering that your Mother has ever come up with….How dare she!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Papa, please calm down," Mary pleaded. "You will have an apoplexy if you keep going on like this."

Matthew thought so as well and though he would have rather not insert himself between Mary and her raging father, he knew the time had come. Robert's health was in jeopardy and his mother-in-law was fading fast under her husband's onslaught.

He had known the reason Robert had requested that he and Mary join him and Cora in the drawing room as soon as they were summoned and had no doubt that fireworks would ensue once Martha Levinson's plan was revealed. Yet the scene before him surpassed even his worst imaginings. He would have to dive in and blast the consequences.

"Robert, Mary is right," he cut in. "Your face is as red as a beet and you must be aware that losing your temper this way will aggravate your ulcer."

His interference earned him a glare from his father-in-law so intense that he felt himself shrink back in his seat. Realizing he had, he forced himself to sit upright. _This just won't do. If he is making me cower and I've faced the Huns, I can only imagine what poor Cora is going through._

Mary was clearly terrified that her father would collapse and he found Cora's face was contorted with fear over what would come next. He had seen that look before during the war when he and William had stumbled into a camp where a deserter was about to be executed. The poor young man, still in his teens by the looks of him, was convulsing violently as he was tied up from head to toe like a sausage by his erstwhile comrades in arms, who then had proceeded to wind a thick bandage around his face. He had caught a glimpse of the soldier's eyes before they were covered and would never forget the abject terror he found here. He hated seeing it now in the eyes of someone he loved.

His own remained locked on his mother-in-law's as he heard the execution command ring out in his mind.

 _Ready...Aim…_

"…I blame you for this, Cora, Robert fired. "You allowed your mother to take over our house, promenade around Downton like a peacock while making one vulgar joke after another at our expense, as well as the servant's. She was an embarrassment…an affront to our entire family…and I suffered her obnoxious behavior because she brought you into my life. Now this!" he bellowed, waving the boarding passes in the air for at least the fourth time before ripping his spectacles from his face and slapping them down hard on the end table beside the sofa.

Matthew marveled at Cora's strength as he saw her take a deep intake of breath and adjust her posture, stretching her body upward until her spine was perfectly straight. Then she raised her chin high, cleared her throat, and shot back, "Now see here, Robert. I can understand your being upset by my mother's plan for Mary and her family to go to America but there is no need to bite my head off. I knew nothing of it until now…and I certainly would not have suggested the trip, knowing how it would upset you…especially since she has them booked on the Olympic …"

Hearing the name of the ship, Robert cut his wife off, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he thanked her for reminding him of the ship her mother had chosen.

"You see, Martha hasn't just chosen any ship for my family to cross the Atlantic. The Olympic is a sister ship to the Titanic, nearly identical in every detail to the liner that went down on its maiden voyage with my beloved cousins and heirs on board and houses their remains at the bottom of the ocean; that is unless they have become fodder for sharks."

At that Matthew winced and he saw that Cora's face, pale to this point, had taken on an ugly green tinge

No matter, the Earl continued, "It is unimaginable to me that any one with a shred of decency would contemplate such a course of action. Martha cannot have forgotten that James and Patrick were lost on that voyage. Yet she still had the audacity to book passage for not only my daughter and granddaughter, but my two remaining heirs," he roared and then leaned his head against the mantle of the fireplace.

Cora implored Robert to give her mother the benefit of the doubt, insisting that Martha's intent in booking passage for Mary and her family to visit her in America was meant to cause him pain.

"I grant you that my mother is flamboyant, but I have never found her to be cruel, Robert. She likely chose the Olympic because she knows the liner will be pulled from service before long, and from what I have heard, it is quite grand."

Robert moved his head slowly away from the mantle and gazed wearily at his wife. After a long moment, he sighed, "Can you possibly be that naïve, Cora? While we sit here bickering, I have no doubt that Martha Levinson is having a cocktail in Newport and a good laugh. The woman is….she is…"

Mary cut him short by jumping to her feet and finishing her father's sentence with, "…your wife's mother and my grandmother, Papa. Can you hear yourself? You would not stand for any of us disparaging Granny the way you have Grandmother Levinson for these past twenty minutes, and you well know it." she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then she took a deep breath and continued, "Now, since it is I, my husband, and our children that have been invited to take this trip, I suggest you allow me and Matthew to decide what is best for our family. I am sorry if you are offended by Grandmother Levinson's choice of liners. Truly, I am. However, I agree with Mama that she did not do so with malice. She may be vulgar at times but I have never found her to be mean-spirited. In fact, you may recall that she opened her home to me when I broke my engagement to Richard Carlisle so that I might avoid the repercussions of my decision."

Matthew felt pride rising up in him as Mary stood her ground. _You've met your match, Robert,_ he thought, sinking back into his chair and crossing his legs. _If I were you, I'd retreat while you still have the chance to do so."_

A minute later, the head of the Crawley family did just that. Clearly exhausted and by no means ignorant of his eldest daughter's keen mind and strong will, he moved from the fireplace and fell into the empty seat next to his wife.

Cora let out a sigh of relief, clearly grateful that the proceedings had come to an end and smiled broadly at her eldest daughter, who now had taken the position her father had previously held at the fireplace.

"Papa, please be reasonable," Mary pleaded, her voice soft but firm. "You must know that the Olympic has crossed the Atlantic hundreds of times without incident since the Titanic sank, and there is no reason to believe this trip will be any different. Grandmother Levinson has spared no expense in booking accommodations on a luxurious ocean liner for my family in order that we may attend her 85th birthday party in Newport, which will no doubt be quite a grand affair. She has also arranged transportation for us to travel to Chicago along with lodging at a 5 star hotel so that we can attend the World's Fair there. It all sounds quite exciting. You have to admit that?"

At that, Matthew took in the look of defeat on his father-in-law's face and knew Mary had won. All the bluster was gone now, replaced by a weariness that he saw was bone deep. He had seen that look at the Front, too, on the faces of soldiers who had given their all, but found it wasn't quite good enough in the end. It hurt him now to see that look on the face of someone he loved. Yet, he reminded himself, Robert had fired the first shot.

The Earl of Grantham rolled his eyes,"Oh, I'm sure it would be that." Then he asked, "Does that mean you have made your decision?"

Seeing Mary reaching out her hand to him, Matthew rose and strolled across the room to join her at the fireplace. Once there, he held it in solidarity and breathed in deeply as he waited for the first shoe to drop.

"Yes, Papa, but it has not been my decision, alone. Matthew and I have discussed this matter at great length and decided that we will honor Grandmother Levinson's request."

Then the second shoe hit the ground as she informed them of how soon they would be leaving.

"We will be departing from Southampton on May 11th and returning June 10th, if all goes as planned."

She let go of him then and strolled across the room until she reached her father, who had still not recovered from the news of their departure date.

"My hope is that you and Mama will be among the well wishers on the dock that will be waving madly at us while shouting _Bon Voyage_. I know she will be there it but can I count on you, Papa?"

After a long moment, the Earl of Grantham rose from his seat and pulled his daughter into an embrace.

Then he stepped back so that they could face one another and replied, "You can always count on me, Mary, whether I agree with you or not."

At that Matthew began to relax as the worst truly was over. All that was left now was to iron out the details of how Robert would assist Tom with the management of the estate in their absence and he could leave that to his wife. He and Mary had discussed the details before the meeting and she had a firm grasp on what needed to be done.

Taking note that Cora, too, appeared much calmer and no longer required his attention, his mind analyzed what had just taken place. Robert did over-react to the situation at hand and blaming Cora for any of it was ridiculous as she had played no part in Martha's machinations. Yet he could not deny that his father-in-law had every right to be upset that after having lost two heirs when they traveled together, his mother-in-law had now placed the two that remained in the exact same situation. .

He wasn't a superstitious man. Well, not very, he amended. He had, after all, kept that stuffed dog Mary had sent him off to war with in the glove compartment of his car for quite some time after he had returned to Downton. In fact, he still hadn't parted with it.

Hearing Mary and Robert's conversation winding down, he couldn't help but ask himself if he was tempting fate now. He was crossing the Atlantic with George just as James Crawley had done with his son Patrick on a ship identical in every way but her name. The thought made a shiver run down his spine.

"Matthew, everything is set," Mary said cheerfully, breaking him out of his musings. "I can't wait to see the look on George and Victoria's faces when we tell them the news."

The joy on his wife's face stripped away his anxiety and effectively put an end to his nonsensical thoughts. Her enthusiasm was catching and he took hold of her hand and smiled, "Neither can I, darling. Let's go find them."

XX

AN: I know there was a ridiculously long stretch between Chapter 1 and 2. Unfortunately, I had one misfortune after another to contend with since January in real life. In fact, right now, I'm just off using crutches as I twisted my knee so badly, I needed medication and physical therapy.

Yet, I am a firm believer in the old adage, "Better late than never!"

I promise it won't take so long for Chapter 3 to come your way, and it will be worth waiting for. Be prepared for Mary and Matthew have a big surprise in store for them when they board the Olympic.

"Passage" as well as all my other works is a mix of fact and fiction. Anything that doesn't pertain solely to any fictional characters created by Julian Fellowes or yours truly is a part of history. Dr. Henry Head and his wife Ruth are real and he was a neurologist at The London Hospital when Matthew was admitted there. Norman Hartnell, a famous designer in this time period. All ive written pertaining to him as his studio is true. The same applies to the Olympic My hope is you will delve further into the historical aspects of the story.

Till then, I hope you enjoy this installment and leave a comment. Reviews do motivate a writer to get down to it. I take a great deal of time to research my stories before I put pen to paper. Therefore, a brief comment from you makes my day. Also, please refer to anyone who loves Matthew and Mary and Downton in general.

msmenna


	3. Chapter 3

Passage – Chapter 3

The current and future Earl and Countess of Grantham sat in perfect harmony beneath the library's coffered wooden ceiling as they awaited Mr. Barrow to serve tea. The tranquil atmosphere in the room was the exact opposite of what it had been the last time the four Crawleys had gathered there.

That pleased Matthew to no end.

Comfortably seated in the Regency arm chair with one leg crossed over the other, he strummed his fingers on his thigh to a happy tune that filled his head while taking in the familial scene before him.

Robert was beaming at Victoria, now fully recovered from her ordeal with Horus and smiling broadly at her grandfather as the yo-yo that he had given to her the day after _the rabbit incident_ snapped back into the palm of her hand.

Mary and Cora, sitting on the twin sofa directly across from the Earl, were in high spirits as they discussed the details of Tom and Catherine's upcoming nuptials. The bride's dress was exquisite, location of the service perfect and it was such a lovely time of year to wed.

George lay on his stomach on the floor in the middle of the room surrounded by broadsheets and pamphlets with his legs bent upward, crisscrossing in the air as he digested the plethora of information that had arrived from the White Star Line.

As Mary had predicted, the children were both thrilled to hear they were going to America, but especially George. Matthew wasn't surprised by that as his son's thirst for knowledge and adventurous spirit was evident at an early age.

Once the lad had learned they would not only be sailing to New York on a ship identical to the Titanic but attending the World's Fair, he could barely contain his excitement and had spoken of little else since.

"Well done, Victoria," the Earl exclaimed, his praise for his granddaughter's accomplishment reaching his wife and daughter's ears and eliciting their applause.

Matthew joined in and cleared his throat in an effort to get his son to follow suit but George was fixed on what he was reading, oblivious to his surroundings.

The sound, however, did catch Horus's attention and the dog bounded into the room. Taking quick notice of his young master's legs flopping back and forth, he headed straight for them. Then the canine proceeded to pounce into the open gap when they fell open and back when they began to close in what he clearly considered a new form of play.

Everyone in the room broke out into laughter at the dog's antics, especially Victoria who squealed with delight each time Horus jumped back in place, her high pitched howls succeeding where her father had failed in getting her brother's attention.

George turned and swatted the dog with a pile of folded broadsheets, but unfortunately this did not have the desired effect. It riled the canine even further and Horus began running furiously in circles around him, wreaking havoc with the leaflets under his feet.

His patience for the dog's shenanigans exhausted, George rose on his knees and began gathering the now crumpled broadsheets and stacking them neatly into a pile. Then he issued a series of commands to his pet in a stern tone until he came to a halt and calmly lay down beside him.

"Good boy, Horus," he said as he stroked his head, which now rested on his front paws.

After a minute or so, the canine's golden eyes began to close and George returned to his original position and the pamphlet he had been reading.

The others in the room also resumed what they were doing before the ruckus drew their attention. Mary and her mother moved on to discuss where Tom and Catherine would be living once they returned from their honeymoon, Victoria continued to play with her yo-yo under her grandfather's watchful eye and Matthew sat back comfortably in his seat and simply relaxed.

"I've told Tom numerous times that we would love for him and Catherine to live here once they are married but he doesn't seem keen on that arrangement," Cora said with a clear note of disappointment in her voice.

"I know, Mama," Mary replied in the same tone. "Tom has balked at the idea when I've brought it up, as well, in spite of my imploring him to stay put, if only for Sybbie's sake. After all, she has lived here since she was born. If Tom decides to leave Downton once Catherine and he tie the knot, he will be putting her in an awkward position. Will she resume living with us or leave when her father does?"

"I'd rather she not have to make that decision," Cora lamented. "As is, we will only have her with us for a couple of years before she heads off to Oxford."

Mary let out a long sigh and frowned, making it clear she felt the same way about Sybbie living elsewhere as her mother did. Then she caught sight of her daughter and father in her peripheral vision and broke into a smile. Victoria had managed to convince him to try his hand in mastering her yo-yo and it was a sight to see.

The Earl stood beside his granddaughter with the toy dangling in the air, his brow furrowed with lines of frustration as he tried to snap it back into his palm but couldn't manage it.

"No, Grandfather, that isn't how its done," Victoria said, shaking her head back and forth. "Uncle Tom said you must flip your wrist and then snap it back as soon as the cord unwinds."

Rolling his eyes, the patriarch of the Crawley family began winding the string around the groove between the red wooden discs, and spat, "I wasn't aware that your uncle was such expert in maneuvering this…this…Good grief, now the blasted cord has become knotted."

At that Victoria began to giggle at her grandfather's predicament, which led Matthew to rethink his remaining a silent observer.

"Do you need assistance, Robert?" he offered in as serious a tone as he could muster under the circumstances. "I have some experience," he added, doing his best to suppress his grin.

"Honestly, Papa," Mary interjected. "You need to have more patience."

Cora agreed with her daughter and added that she found her husband lacked that particular virtue more and more as he grew older, her comments drawing Robert from the problem literally at hand long enough to glare at her a few seconds before responding to his son-in-law's offer of assistance.

"Thank you, Matthew, but I think I can manage enough patience to untie a knot, even at my advanced age."

"I'm sure you can, Robert, but my offer stands" he replied, winking at Mary, who by the look on her face found the situation as amusing as he did.

Then the sound of George calling out his name brought his head around.

"Father, it says here that the Olympic served as a troopship during the Great War. She was painted grey, her portholes blocked and lights on deck turned off to make her less visible to the enemy."

Matthew was aware that the ship had been used but not much more; taking note of his son's exuberance, he asked him to provide him with further details.

George nodded and smiled broadly at him, clearly happy to comply with his request. Then he lowered his head and began reading out loud, " _The ship was stripped of its peacetime fittings and armed with 12-pounders and 4.7 inch guns. Under the command of Bertram Fox Hayes, she left Liverpool carrying 6,000 soldiers to Mudros for the Gallipoli Campaign. On October 1_ _st_ _, 1915, lifeboats from the French ship Provincia, which had been sunk by a German U-boat, were sighted and 34 survivors rescued. The French awarded Hayes with the Gold Medal of Honour_."

"Very impressive," Matthew exclaimed. "Go on, Son. I'm sure there is more,"

"Oh, there is," the boy replied quickly, then resumed reading where he had left off.

" _In May, 1918 while headed for France with U.S. troops she sighted a surfaced U-Boat ahead and opened fire at once before turning and ramming the submarine and scuttling it. Some American soldiers on board paid for a plaque to be placed on one of the Olympic's lounges to commemorate the event."_

"It likely will still be there, George. I'd like to see it, wouldn't you?"

Raising his head, George gushed, "Yes, Sir, I surely would," before returning to the page and ending with, " _During the war, Olympic is reported to have carried up to 201,000 troops and other personnel, burning 347,000 tons of coal and travelling about 184,000 miles. Her impressive war service earned her the nickname Old Reliable."_

"It seems the Olympic has had quite an extensive run, George. Did the White Star Line send you any more recent information? I think your grandfather would be interested in the modifications that were made to the ship after the Titanic sank. I'm sure there will be some mention of that."

"I'm going to look into that right now, Father." George said in a businesslike manner as he rose from the floor and began gathering the literature scattered about. "However, I think it is best that I do so in my room. Thomas…I mean Mr. Barrow…should be arriving with tea soon and I wouldn't want him to trip over me or Horus and scald someone."

Despite the comical scene his son had planted in his head, he replied, "Very good, Son. I'm sure that Mr. Barrow will appreciate your consideration as much as we all do. Perhaps we can discuss your findings in your room after tea. I'm sure by then you will have much more information to share."

George nodded, "No doubt, Sir." Then he turned to Horus and called out, "Let's go, boy," before excusing himself and heading out of the room with the dog on his heels.

Once Horus's wagging tail was out of sight, Matthew turned and smiled broadly at Mary, finding her own face alight with amusement. His attention was diverted then to Mr. Barrow, who arrived as if on cue with a steaming pot of hot tea and even more steaming Dowager Countess in tow.

Edging the butler out of the way with her cane, Violet Crawley demanded, "Is it true that Mary and Matthew have been summoned to Newport by Cora's mother?"

XX

Matthew shifted in his seat, no longer finding it comfortable or able to relax as Mary's grandmother made her feelings regarding Martha Levinson's invitation known.

"Granny, we weren't summoned to go to America," Mary retorted, her cheeks turning crimson. We were invited to visit my grandmother in Newport for a week and then to attend the Worlds Fair in Chicago - at her expense, incidentally. Now you mustn't get Papa riled up again when he has finally accepted that we are going".

Sitting in her customary wing chair with her hands resting on her cane should she need it, the Dowager shot back, "Riled up again? I gather from your remark that my son is also not keen on this trip. Well, far be it from me to upset Robert as his health is paramount to me…but I must say that I find it shocking that he has agreed to such a…such an ill conceived plan. As I understand it, you, Matthew and your children are to put your lives on hold and traipse across the Atlantic at a moment's notice because Martha Levinson would like a visit. Clearly she did not take into account that you and your husband have duties here at Downton. Who will fulfill them in your absence?"

"That would be me and Robert," rang out from across the room as Tom made his way into the library and headed for the table that held the tea service.

"Uncle Tom….you're back!" Victoria cried out, taking off in his direction at a rapid pace.

Matthew let out a sigh of relief as his brother-in-law managed to forestall an imminent collision by getting hold of the child's shoulders before she crashed into him.

"Whoa….slow down, little lady," Tom bellowed. "I'm glad you are happy to see me, Victoria, but I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Mary laid her teacup on the end table and chimed in, "Darling, please remember what I told you about running in confined spaces. It is dangerous."

 _Dangerous indeed_ , Matthew thought. It had only been last week that Victoria wound up with a bloody lip as a result of her chasing Horus into the drawing room and tripping over a scatter rug. He was about to remind her of the incident, but seeing the downtrodden expression on her face, he didn't have the heart to.

It quickly became clear that Tom, too, thought no further admonishment necessary as he playfully tugged on Victoria's braid and smiled, "Yes, I am back from picking your cousin up from the train station and she is waiting for you in her room at this very moment to give you a present from your Aunt Edith."

Making a mental note to thank Tom, Matthew smiled as he saw Victoria's blue eyes widen with delight, her entire demeanor changed for the better.

"A present for me?" she sputtered excitedly. Are you sure, Uncle Tom? My birthday isn't until October."

Matthew looked to Mary to see if she knew anything about Edith's gift, but she shook her head back and forth and shrugged.

Tom rubbed his hand over his chin in mock concentration before he replied, "I'm pretty sure that is what Sybbie said." Then after a brief pause, he smiled, "In fact, now that I think about it, she also mentioned your favorite cartoon character."

"Mickey!" Victoria screeched, bouncing in place. "Aunt Edith knows how much I enjoy Mickey Mouse and…and…I must go to cousin Sybbie right now. I can't wait to see what my gift is."

At that moment, his daughter reminded Matthew of a thoroughbred awaiting the gate to open in the Derby, and he felt certain that if he didn't say something to curb Victoria's exuberance, she would take off at a gallop despite her mother's wishes.

After giving Mary a look that said _I'll take care of it_ and her acknowledging that he would with a nod, he rose from his seat and joined his daughter and Tom, planting himself close enough to Victoria to be able to take hold of her arm in the event she decided to bolt.

"Sweetheart, you may leave now to join your cousin but not until you promise me that you will walk, not run, to her room…and that includes taking the stairs one step at a time. Do I have your word that you will do as I ask?"

Victoria rocked back on her heels and smiled, "Yes, Father. You have my word that I will follow your and… Mother's wishes," she said, turning her head in Mary's direction.

"That's my girl," Matthew smiled, and moved out of her way.

Tom stepped off to the side, too, and urged, "Off with you then. Your cousin is likely wondering what is taking you so long."

At that, Victoria rose on her toes and planted a kiss on her father's cheek. Then she set off at as quick a pace as could still be considered walking, her arms swinging at her sides as though she were marching in a parade.

Once she reached the edge of the library, she turned her head and exclaimed, "I almost forgot…Uncle Tom, Grandfather is having great difficulty getting my yo-yo to work properly for him. I would greatly appreciate it if you would give him a few lessons."

Tom suppressed his laughter long enough to reply, "Of course, I will, Victoria. Your grandfather will be a yo-yo master once I'm done with him."

"Thank you, Uncle Tom. I'm that pleased to hear it," she said, borrowing one of her uncle's favorite phrases before she turned and took a giant step toward her destination.

As Tom chuckled, all eyes fixed on Robert, who stood with the dangling yo-yo in hand and a look of exasperation on his face.

"Yo-Yo master," he spat before tossing the toy, tangled string and all like a hot potato onto the Persian carpet. First I'm addressed as _Donk_ by Sybbie and now Victoria will be calling me a Yo-Yo Master," he bemoaned before falling into his seat with a thump.

The room burst into laughter, even the Dowager finding she couldn't contain her amusement, although she did her best to hide her guffaws by covering her mouth with her handkerchief.

Seeing the Earl's face grow redder by the second, Matthew took the lead in curbing his joviality and the others soon followed suit until no sound was heard in the library.

It didn't remain that way for long, however, as Violet Crawley regained her composure and proclaimed, "I have a bad feeling about this trip. It is foolhardy for my son's only remaining heirs to sail to America together on a ship identical to the one that took the lives of their predecessors."

Robert sighed, clearly unconvinced that his mother was not making sense and Mary threw her hands in the air.

"There is no reason for any one to worry," cut through the air in Matthew's calm, reassuring voice. Changes have been made to the Olympic to correct the Titanic's flaws and the ship has made hundreds of crossings without incident. We will be perfectly safe."

"He is right," Tom chimed in. My Cousin Margaret's husband Liam worked on the modifications to the Olympic in Belfast when it was pulled from service after the Titanic was lost. He told me that the lifeboats were increased threefold and watertight bulkheads extended to the entire hull of the ship. Every flaw in the ship's original design that resulted in the Titanic sinking has been corrected."

Matthew smiled at Tom and gestured for him to continue.

Picking up on his brother-in-law's cue, he added, "And Liam has worked on her twice since then - first when she returned from her stint as a troop ship during the war to ensure she was in tip-top shape before returning to passenger service and again a year and a half ago when she was overhauled in order to compete with the newer vessels. From what he has told me, the ship is not only sound but quite grand."

Grateful that Tom had made his argument for him, Matthew thanked him for doing so before addressing Mary's grandmother.

"That settles it, then. The Olympic is clearly safe to travel on. Besides, what are the odds of two identical ships meeting the same tragic end while carrying a set of Robert's heirs?"

The Dowager Countess leaned forward on her cane and countered, "What are the odds of someone driving less than five miles on a familiar road in broad daylight and winding up in an embankment beneath their overturned vehicle with no heartbeat until they come awake in a morgue?"

Matthew let out a long sigh. _Touché, Violet._

XX

He decided to leave the Dowager's stinging retort unanswered and returned to his chair, falling into it with the same thump of defeat that his father-in-law had managed in what seemed hours ago but was mere minutes. He looked to Mary then, his eyes pleading with her to take up the gauntlet on his behalf.

She thankfully was up to the task and Matthew beamed at her as she held her own and then some in dealing with her grandmother's questions and sarcasm.

"Honestly, Granny, you are incorrigible," Mary cried out after Violet made another snide remark about her American counterpart.

"I have known she is a woman of means, but how is she affording this extravaganza? Does the Great Depression not extend to America? The stories I've read in the papers and photographs that accompany them tell sad tales of once affluent people jumping out of windows because they have lost their fortunes. There are long soup lines and unfortunates living on the street without any means of support. Did Martha's late husband leave her in such a comfortable position that her wealth was not diminished by the stock market crashing and the ripples that followed?"

Mary replied flatly, "I have no doubt she was, but she is not paying for our passage with any money from her inheritance. Uncle Harold convinced her to invest in a motion picture that he co-produced that wound up being a huge success. Both he and my grandmother reaped a very high return on their investment."

Violet balked, "Are you saying that she garnered enough money from her involvement with this…this motion picture to enable her to afford your traveling to America like royalty?"

"Yes, Granny, that is exactly what I'm saying," Mary replied, setting down her cup of tea.

Violet blinked, clearly astonished by her granddaughter's response. Then she insisted that she be provided with details.

"A giant ape?" Violet repeated for the second time with no small amount of incredulity in her voice. "This highly successful motion picture that Harold spearheaded was about a giant ape that climbs to the top of the Empire State Building?"

Mary nodded, rounded her shoulders and sat erect in her seat, readying herself for her grandmother's next caustic remark.

"Well, I guess I should not be surprised that Americans would find such pulp enjoyable. One can only wonder who will star in your uncle's next venture. Perhaps he will showcase a behemoth sized snake that can wrap itself around the Washington Monument…or should Harold decide to move the location of his next riveting tale across the Atlantic, the creature could slither up Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower."

Matthew covered his mouth to stifle the laugh he felt rising in his throat. Though his wife was quite witty, she still could learn a thing of two from Violet Crawley when it came to sarcasm.

"I don't see how my mother is paying for this trip is any of your business," Cora interjected, her soft voice nearly a whisper but annoyance with her mother-in-law's meddling coming across loud and clear.

Cora had remained so quiet since Violet had arrived that although she sat directly next to Mary, Matthew almost had forgotten she was there.

"Furthermore…," the Countess continued,"… my brother Harold's success is something to herald, not mock. I cannot fathom why you believe it is your right to disparage him in this manner."

"Now, now, Cora, I'm sure Mama did not mean to discredit Harold or his success," Robert said in what was clearly an attempt to ward off an argument between his mother and wife.

Planting her cane a short distance ahead of her, the Dowager balanced herself on it as she rose from her seat and made ready to leave.

"No…No…Robert. Cora is correct in that her brother's business is none of mine. I will give her that," she said as she crossed the room.

The men, now on their feet, gave each other a look that said _You know it isn't going to be that simple_.

They were proven right upon Violet reaching Matthew as she stopped in her tracks and turned her head to give her daughter-in-law a parting shot.

"It is, however, my business, Cora, when the lives of those who share my blood are upended because your mother longs for a family reunion." she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "As for Harold..," she added, waving her free hand in the air,"…I could care less if the star of his next production is the Loch Ness Monster. Both he and your mother epitomize everything I find wrong with Americans. I'll leave it at that."

Matthew saw Tom's eyes widen and he smiled, remembering the conversation they had regarding the legendary creature in the dining room the day Martha's letters had arrived.

Then his attention returned to Violet, who he found swept passed him quite quickly for someone her age using a cane.

In her wake, Cora sat with her mouth agape and Mary rolled her eyes. Then Robert sprang from his seat and excused himself, muttering that he had better see his mother out.

Not for the first time, Matthew internally debated whether or not he should thank Martha Levinson for her generosity or blast the woman for the turmoil her invitation had created at Downton.

"That woman…," his mother-in-law managed through now clenched teeth. "She is…she is…"

Predictable," Mary cried out. "Come now, Mama. You had to see that coming. No matter how much has changed in our lives in the last two decades, Granny's meddling has been a constant. She simply must have her say no matter if her opinion is welcome or not."

Cora sighed, "You would think after all these years that I would be used to her sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. Yet her interference still makes my hair stand on end."

"I think that is the icing on the cake for Granny, Mama. She gets her point across and rattles you at the same time."

Matthew couldn't help but chuckle at his wife's supposition as it was spot on but he squelched his amusement quickly when he caught sight of his mother-in-law scowling at him as she rose from her seat.

"It saddens me to say that you are likely right, Mary, and one day I'm going to find a way to deny Violet that satisfaction. Today is not that day, however, as my head is beginning to throb and I think it best that I retire to my room and relax with a cold compress on it. I sent Miss Baxter into the Village on an errand but she should be back any moment. I'll ask Barrow to send her to my room once she returns but if you should see her first, be a darling and tell her I need her."

"I'm sorry you aren't feeling well, Mama. I would be happy to go up with you and apply the compress."

"No, please stay, Mary. That won't be necessary," Cora said, waving her daughter off.

Guilt set in quickly once he learned his mother-in-law was in pain. As she reached him, he offered her his own well wishes for a speedy recovery along with an apology for his response to his wife's comment.

"Rest assured that I find no amusement in the Dowager vexing you, Cora. It was Mary's observation that caused me to chuckle as it rang true."

Thankfully, the Countess was not one to hold a grudge and she managed a smile in spite of her aching head, which remained in place when Tom told her that he hoped she would be fit as a fiddle in no time.

"Thank you, Tom, I'm sure I will be fine," Cora said, and headed for the stairs that led to the Gallery.

Once it was clear she was out of hearing range, Mary spat, "So much for a peaceful family gathering and cup of tea."

"I'm beginning to wonder if there will be any peace at all at Downton until we've returned from America, darling," Matthew said, returning to his seat and once more vacillating about Martha Levinson's invitation.

"You two are making the same mistake Cora does," Tom declared, joining his sister-in-law on the sofa. "The Dowager only has the power to ruffle someone's feathers because they give it to her. If the lot of you would just nod your heads when she goes off on a tangent and then continue to go about your business, she'd eventually get the message that you are going to live your lives the way you see fit no matter how much that displeases her."

"That is easier said than done, Tom," Mary replied. "Granny can be quite a formidable opponent."

"Don't treat her as one and there will be no battle to lose," the Irishman replied. "From what I've seen, Violet meddles for two reasons – first, she truly loves her family and wants to steer each member of it in the right direction…and if we are being honest, her advice is often right…and second, she needs to feel relevant, more so the older she gets. I don't think she feels she can remain silent and still be considered the matriarch of the Crawley family…and that she is determined to be until she takes her last breath."

 _It appears that my wife is not the only one beside me who possesses an analytical mind,_ Matthew concluded as he scrutinized Tom's assertions and found they had merit. He was impressed by the argument he had made, knowing it required a superior intellect as well as a healthy amount of common sense to formulate it. That was how he managed the estate with such aplomb.

"I agree with everything you've said, Tom, and must say that I am impressed by your powers of observation. I didn't realize you paid such close attention to Violet's behavior."

"Nor did I," Mary said, clearly taken aback by her brother-in-law's deduction. I'm not certain whether I'm more surprised that you felt inclined to analyze my grandmother or that you found the time to do so."

Tom smiled, "I felt it was important that I did once Sybil and I came clean about our relationship since she clearly was able to sway Robert's opinion on matters of importance."

He was silent then for a few moments, his eyes no longer focusing on any one or thing in the room as he became lost in his thoughts. "I was right, too. I think the Earl agreed to give us his blessing because his mother made him see sense. She knew we would marry with or without his permission though it would pain Sybil greatly should her father withhold it. Violet must have made a strong case for her granddaughter's happiness, and I found myself grateful that she meddled."

It dawned on Matthew that that wasn't the only time the Dowager's meddling had resulted in happiness for a man in love with one of her granddaughters and he set his sights on his wife.

Mary turned her head his way as though she could feel his stare and smiled broadly at him. It happened all the time, though he still could not fathom how she knew when he was looking at her. There certainly was no logical explanation for it.

Their eyes remained locked as he recounted Violet Crawley's unorthodox visit to his room in what seemed another lifetime. He was engaged at the time to Lavinia Swire and had just learned he was not paralyzed after all.

' _Mary is still in love with you_ she had blurted, much to his surprise.

"She told me…and I'm paraphrasing now…that I would spend 40 or 50 years married to either you or Lavinia…may she rest in peace…and I should be sure I chose correctly."

Matthew paused then as the memory was filed back in the proper place in his mind then continued, "I'm not sure that I've ever thanked Violet for her meddling. Do you think it is too late, darling?"

Mary laughed, "I think she would love hearing how much you appreciated her words of wisdom, Matthew, and I must add that I am quite pleased to hear that you have."

Tom teased, "Well, you were quite dense back then, Matthew. It was as plain as the nose on your face that you and Mary belonged together. The Dowager just had the gumption to confront you about it."

Matthew shot back, "Just as she has had the gumption to confront you now with regard to your living arrangements after you and Catherine are married. It is my understanding that Violet, as well as Cora and Mary, have addressed this issue with you on more than one occasion, Tom. Yet you still have not provided any one with an answer as to why you are considering living elsewhere."

It was as though he had socked him. Tom's jaw dropped and he stiffened, clearly reluctant to address the question.

After a long moment, he composed himself and replied, "I'll have you know that I do have a good reason to not want to bring my wife and stepchild to live here. I just…it is not easy for me to explain it. That's all."

He was about to ask his brother-in-law what was troubling him, but Mary beat him to the punch, placing her hand on his shoulder and urging him to tell them what was wrong.

"You know that we will stand by any decision you make, Tom, she said reassuringly. We are just trying to understand why you wouldn't want your family to live in your home, because it is yours as much as it is ours. You do know that, don't you?"

Tom reached up and squeezed her hand, "Yes, Mary, I have felt Downton to be my home for a very long time now. That's not it. The reason I am reluctant to bring Catherine and Daniel here is not because I do not feel part of this family or this grand place."

"Then what is it?" Mary implored.

He paused again, his eyes glazing over and lips pressed tight for a long while before he cleared his throat and spurted, "Our wedding picture is still on my night stand…a photograph of Sybil and I on the day we were married, I mean. It has been there since she died…and although I do love Catherine and am looking forward to our life together, I have found I'm unable to move it. You understand, don't you, Mary?"

Her eyes welling with tears, she replied, "Yes, Tom, you know that I do."

Watching the scene before him, Matthew could feel his throat tighten and his own eyes begin to sting. Mary had told him that she kept their wedding photograph on her nightstand when she believed him dead and shared that it brought her comfort and grief in equal measures. He imagined Tom felt the same way.

"I sleep in the same room that my child was born in and wife died in…," Tom began, his voice cracking. "…although, Cora did insist the bed be replaced. She made up some story about the frame being cracked but I found nothing wrong with it. To her credit, Cora is not a very good liar. I think the real reason she got rid of it is that keeping it hurt too much and I can understand that. Yet…," he whispered and then stopped speaking.

Matthew rose and joined his wife and the man he had come to love as a brother on the sofa.

"Take your time, Tom. There is no rush…and rest assured that whatever you say will not be repeated to any one outside of this room."

Tom nodded, took a deep breath and then began, "I fell madly in love with the love of my life here… and for a short time she and I called it home. We welcomed our baby girl into the world in this house and shared the joy of having a healthy child for a few moments. Then Sybil was lost to us both. I cannot share this home with Catherine because as big Downton is, it isn't big enough. I will always think of this place as Sybil's legacy to me and Sybbie…I believe her spirit resides here…that she watches over us. I couldn't possibly share our home with any other woman. Not now. Not ever."

Matthew and Mary remained silent as Toms words sank in. Then he silently thanked God that his memory had returned and Mary had been spared their brother-in-law's pain the past 11 years. He reminded himself that they had been lucky and then concluded Tom had been, too. Though it took a long time, he did find love again, no matter if that love was different than what he had felt for Sybil. This was a second chance at happiness for both him and Catherine, and he was glad they took it, as he believed they would make a wonderful life for themselves and their children.

"We will help you find a place, Tom," Matthew said, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. Together, the three of us will find a lovely home for you and your family, one that you and Catherine can call your own. I promise you that."

XX

Dinner was uneventful and quieter than usual since Cora's headache had not improved and she took a plate in her room. Robert had barely touched his meal before he excused himself to check on his wife's condition. Tom was absent, too, as he had taken Sybbie out to dinner at the Netherby, a nearby hotel that housed a lovely restaurant in order to glean where she stood on what had now become the _great matter_ at Downton _._

As the Earl's plate was cleared from the table, Matthew and Mary were the only two that remained in the dining room when the raspberry meringue pudding was served by Harriet. The two looked at the dessert and burst into laughter, resulting in the maid's eyes widening with wonder.

It had been dubbed "the salty pudding" many years earlier when Mrs. Patmore had mistaken the salt shaker for the sugar and sprinkled a healthy amount of the former on the concoction. Her blunder resulted in Edith's future fiancé', Anthony Strallan, getting a mouthful of salt when he took his first bite, and his reaction was highly amusing.

"Good God!" Matthew bellowed, imitating Sir Anthony's outburst before rejoining Mary in her merriment.

Things between them had been tense until that moment as she had resented his coming to Downton and claiming an inheritance that would have been hers if not for the entail that her American grandfather had put in place. It was what kept them from bonding despite the underlying attraction they felt. That night, it didn't.

"Do you think Mrs. Patmore is looking down from heaven and laughing along with us?" Mary asked as her fit of giggles subsided.

"I would hope she is, but doubt it," Matthew replied as he eyed his dessert with a contemplative look on is face. "After all, though we found her blunder amusing, she was quite upset by it. Added to that, her recipe is now in the hands of Mrs. Byrd, who has not only proven to be an excellent cook but also taken over her dear friend's duties as head housekeeper."

He recalled it had taken him a while to convince his mother to forgive her erstwhile servant for her unkind treatment of Ethel Parks, one of the maids who had been fired due to her becoming pregnant by an officer who was recuperating at Downton during the Great War.

At his mother's urging, Mrs. Byrd's condemnation of the maid had become a stumbling block in the Crawleys hiring her to replace Mrs. Patmore, though they believed she would be a good fit. It took a great deal of his time and patience to get Isobel to see that the cook was raised to believe women like Ethel were to be treated differently than women with morals. She wasn't a mean-spirited person, just one following the dictates of her upbringing.

In her favor, too, as she grew older, Mrs. Byrd did come to regret her harsh treatment, especially after learning Ethel had given up her child to his grandparents so that he could live a better life than she could provide.

"Oh dear, I didn't think of it that way," Mary replied, breaking him out of his musings. "I hope Mrs. Patmore is at peace and knows that no one will ever truly replace her at Downton. She was one of a kind and will never be forgotten, no matter who is preparing our meals."

He nodded before teasing, "I hope you are right, darling. We wouldn't want an angry spirit haunting the kitchen. Otherwise, I might wind up with a spoonful of salt in my mouth."

XX

Though the temperature outside had dropped, Matthew cracked open one of the bedroom windows to let some fresh air in. The raspberry meringue pudding had been delicious and he ate more of it than he should have, which led to his stomach bloating and the waistband of his trousers digging into his sides.

"I can't wait to get out of these clothes," he said as he wrestled with the knot in his tie.

Mary was there in an instant, pushing his hands out of the way and working her magic, calmly removing it and handing it to him.

"What would I do without you?" he asked before giving her a quick peck on her lips.

"She smiled, "Let's hope you won't have to find out for a long time."

"A very, very, very long time," he said before taking the tie from her hands. Then he headed off to his dressing room to change, calling out, "I won't be long, darling," over his shoulder.

He had not used a valet in years, having never wanted one to begin with and finally managing to forego one with Robert's approval for economy's sake. In fact, many of the ways of life the Crawleys had been accustomed to were abandoned in order to keep Downton afloat.

True, Cora still kept her lady's maid, but Miss. Baxter was shared by Mary and Matthew pitched in frequently by helping his wife undress for bed. It had also become a nightly ritual for him to comb her hair out, a task that he relished. It was shorter than it had been when she was younger but still reached her shoulders in gentle waves.

The staff had been cut to the bone and remaining servants required to take on more than one position as was the case with many of their neighbors who survived the war and its aftermath.

Mrs. Byrd was the Crawley's cook and head housekeeper. The two housemaids and scullery maid she supervised, Clara, Harriet and Margaret respectively, cleaned, laundered, mended the family's clothes (sometimes with the assistance of Miss Baxter), ran errands, assisted with meal preparation and helped Sybbie and Victoria with their dress and hair. To further reduce expenditures, none of the maids resided at Downton.

Their tasks would have been overwhelming had it not been for the modern inventions that came along – the refrigerator, washing machine and vacuum cleaner, which lessened their workload substantially.

Mr. Molelsley served as Robert's valet and tutor to the children when they needed assistance with schoolwork. Thomas held the title of butler, but both he Molesley were called upon to perform the duties of a footman when the need arose as was the stable groom. The lines had definitely been blurred.

Dinner parties were rare, but when the Crawleys did invite more than a few guests, they employed day workers to assist their small staff.

The main floor was well maintained and family and guest bedrooms kept in good order, but many rooms in their massive home had been closed off, the furniture covered with sheets and drapes closed tight to keep the costly Turkish carpets from fading.

Matthew called it "economizing" and though it was not pleasant, it was an integral part of his plan to keep Downton afloat. If any one complained to him about it, he reminded them of that.

True to his word, he returned to Mary quickly, now wearing pale blue pajamas and a matching robe that had she had given him on his birthday and began to help her out of her dress. Raising her hair so that he could get to the zipper, he grasped hold of the silver tab and pulled down on it gently until it reached the end.

"That's it, darling," he said, letting her dark chestnut locks slip through his fingers as they fell back in place.

Mary thanked him for his help and then bent over and stepped out of her dress. Draping it over her arm, she reached for a hangar that lay on a nearby chair.

Matthew appreciated how her black satin slip hugged her curves. The dark color offset her creamy white skin, making him wanting to see more of it.

Soon he realized he was becoming aroused and reminded himself that Mary was not doing a strip tease for his benefit. He was there to help, not leer at her. Scolding himself, he looked away and did his best to concentrate on something else.

"Did you give any more thought to who you want to take with us to Newport, darling? The 11th will be here before you know it."

Mary sat down on the tufted chair near her vanity and raised one leg into the air, removing the garter that held her stocking up and rolling it down carefully so not to cause a run in it. Then she rolled it into a ball and tossed it with precision into a small hamper nearby.

Following the same procedure with the remaining hose, she replied, "I know this may sound mad, Matthew, but I was thinking of asking Anna if she would like to make the trip with us."

He blinked, surprised by her response and uttered, "Really?"

She nodded, "Well, she was to go with me the first time I had planned on staying with my grandmother in Newport to wait out the scandal Richard Carlisle threatened me with. If John had not escaped the gallows for a murder he didn't commit and you hadn't proposed to me, Anna and I would have made the trip together. I wonder now if perhaps it isn't our destiny to do so."

Matthew smiled, "Perhaps it is."

Tossing the second stocking next to the first, she continued, "Of course, I would extend an invitation to her son, as well. That might actually be the deciding factor in her agreeing to go. I can't imagine that she or John would not welcome the opportunity for John Robert to travel in luxury to America, especially knowing he would be attending the Worlds Fair."

Matthew agreed, "I think you've come up with an excellent plan, darling. Your grandmother has paid for another adult to travel with us. We would just have to pick up the cost of adding a bed next to George's for the Bates' boy. He is quite fond of the lad so I'm sure he wouldn't mind his joining us one bit."

"It's settled then," Mary said with finality. "I'll call Anna and set up a visit to make her the offer."  
.

Then she reached behind her neck to open the clasp on the chain of her necklace. She found she could not manage it, however, and after the third try dropped her hands and cursed under her breath.

"Come here. I'll do that," Matthew exclaimed. "That is my job. Remember?"

She came to him at once, turning around upon reaching him and raising her hair so that he could get at the clasp.

"Sometimes I do forget, darling. I was accustomed to pulling a cord and having a servant appear at the ready for many years. I guess I've not fully adjusted to our new way of life."

He gently turned her around until they faced one another and locking his eyes with hers, glided his hand from her shoulder to the top of her slip, tracing the lace border with his index finger before moving his hand down and cupping one of her breasts.

"But forfeiting your lady's maid in the evening has proved advantageous in some ways, hasn't it darling?"

"Quite advantageous," she purred before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Matthew broke the kiss long enough to lower the straps on her slip, causing the silky garment to slide down until all that remained was her brassiere. He made quick work of removing it and tossed it to the ground, then bent his head and took one of her pert nipples into his mouth. Holding her breast firmly in place with one hand, he sucked hard on it while he fondled the other with his free one.

Mary held his head in place and he heard her moan while he tweaked, sucked and nipped at her swollen nipples. Soon she was panting as if she had just run a marathon. Then he felt her hand slide downward and reach for his pant zipper, the sound of metal grating on metal as it opened mingled with her sounds of rapture until it became clear how much he wanted her.

With their duties at Downton and the active role they played in their children's lives, it had been a while since they had connected this way and he had missed it even more than he realized. He lifted Mary in his arms and dropped her down on the golden coverlet that graced their bed. Fueled by desire, he found he had no patience for foreplay and pushed her slip up over her hips before stripping off her panties and tossing them on the floor.

"You make me feel like a young man, again," he croaked, his blue eyes boring into hers as he nudged her legs apart. "I want you just as much now as I did the first time we made love."

Mary smiled seductively, "So do I."

Then for what would be considered a minuscule moment in time considering the many years they had shared, they gave no thought to their age, duties, obligations or future plans and lost themselves in each other.

XX

The establishment that John and Anna Bates owned and operated was modest in size but tastefully decorated thanks to the latter's ingenuity. The two-story grey brick structure sat on a quiet street lined with massive Elms and nestled between a book shop and bakery.

Though plain in design, the facade was enriched by its freshly painted whited paned glass windows and vines of crawling ivy that formed a perfect arch over the entrance door before spreading like wildfire in every direction in its daily quest to reach the sun.

A wooden sign pieced together by metal clips on each side hung from a black post staked into the ground a few feet in front of the small hotel with "The Bates Inn" encircled by an oval border on the top half, while the lower indicated whether or not occupancy was available.

Anna noted that the geese that strayed onto their property from a nearby lake in search of food arrived in larger numbers when their hotel was full, no doubt due to the generosity of their guests in sharing a morsel or two with them. Early on, she and John found the lovely creatures charming but eventually their incessant honking and the droppings they left behind grated on their nerves, resulting in a second sign that read, "PLEASE DO NOT FEED GEESE".

The first floor housed the Bates' living quarters along with a reception area, kitchen, pantry, bath and dining room that could accommodate 20. In order to keep their operating costs down, the fledgling business owners decided to only serve breakfast. Anna helped one of scullery maids prepare the morning meal, their task made much easier by having a bakery in such close proximity to the hotel.

That seemed to suit their clientele fine as the majority of their guests only stayed one night and then headed out after their morning meal to resume their travel. Anna suggested to her husband that they change the name of the inn to "Bates Bed & Breakfast" and he told her he would give her idea serious consideration, adding she was quite witty.

This bright, sunny day, the former lady's maid welcomed her erstwhile employer and constant friend at the door with open arms, a bright smile, and a great deal of curiosity since Mary's phone call touched upon a proposition she was coming to make but no details were given.

"I don't know how you do it, Anna, but you appear no older than the day you married Mr. Bates," Mary smiled, eyeing her with appreciation. "…and if memory serves me, correctly, I believe that was 15 years ago."

Anna smiled, "You are a dear for saying that, but I fear you may be in need of spectacles. I find a new grey hair whenever I brush it and the furrow between my brows seems to grow deeper each time I look in the mirror. You, on the other hand remain a timeless beauty."

Mary reveled in the compliment and reached for Anna's hands, "You are a gem and I have missed you." she proclaimed with a broad grin on her face that was quickly matched.

They stood locked together that way for a long moment, their high regard for one another clear in their eyes before they dropped their hands and stepped inside.

As they made their way through the lobby of the hotel toward the co-owner who was manning the front desk, Mary remarked, "Matthew says beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I think that means when you care for someone, you see them through a different lens."

Anna nodded, "Words of wisdom, which, if memory serves me, your husband never was in short supply of."

"Nor was yours," Mary countered, as they reached her father's former valet and she greeted him with a warm smile and outstretched hands.

"Welcome to our humble establishment," John said. "Anna tells me this is not just a casual visit and I must admit that you have piqued my curiosity."

Then he called out to one of his employees, a young, dark haired man headed toward the stairs that led to the guest rooms in order to have him relieve him at his post.

XX

"I had a feeling Anna would accept but wasn't quite sure John would be able to spare her," Matthew said as he slipped his arm through his dinner jacket.

"Neither was I," Mary replied after blotting the lipstick she had just applied and assessing her appearance in her vanity mirror.

They had spent the last hour dressing for dinner, since the Dowager was joining them, and talking about Mary's visit to the Bates, most of their conversation spent on Anna's decision to come on board, both figuratively and literally.

"John insisted that she and JR, which is what family and friends call him, make the trip," Mary added as she rose from her seat and ran her hands over her dress to smooth out any wrinkles that may have formed while she was sitting. Then turning to Matthew, who stood at the window, she continued, "He said it was the opportunity of a lifetime and thanked me for offering it to his wife and son."

Matthew smiled, "I'm not surprised. I just hope he won't get too bogged down with Anna gone. John is getting up in years and his impairment makes it more difficult for him to maneuver about."

Mary eased his mind by informing him that Anna told her they had many applications for employment on file and her husband would have no problem hiring someone to assist him while she was away.

"The Depression has eased, darling, but sadly many still are unemployed," she frowned as she took a long strand of pearls out of her jewelry box and placed the necklace over her head.

After taking a last look in her vanity mirror to ensure her appearance was satisfactory, Mary turned her head to the clock on the fireplace mantle and noting the time, she asked Matthew if he would be ready soon as she did not want them to be late for dinner.

He raised his eyebrows and replied, "Darling, I was ready when I came in. All I had to do was get into my jacket. I've been waiting for you to finish primping."

She rolled her eyes at him and said in a tone that brooked no argument, "I do not primp. Anna told me today that I am a timeless beauty and she is one of the most honest people I know so it must be so. Therefore, I have no need to."

"I would have to be a fool to argue that point," Matthew chuckled. "Now, let's get going before your grandmother comes looking for us."

XX

The time for their departure came quickly, much too quickly for Matthew's liking as he wasn't sure he had covered all the bases he needed to with Robert and Tom with regard to their added duties at Downton. Now there was no time left to revisit the mental list he had been agonizing over.

"Stop it right now," Mary demanded.

"Stop what?" he asked, winding his watch to match the time on the clock to ensure it would be accurate.

Mary closed the small leather case that held her toiletries and brought down the locks until they clicked soundly before replying, "Worrying. There is deep crease in your brow that is going to leave an indelible mark if you don't stop scrunching your face that way."

He frowned, "I don't care if it does. Vanity is not one of my character flaws."

She took one last look in the mirror, adjusting her hat till it sat perfectly on her coifed hair and smiled, "In my opinion, vanity is an attribute, not a flaw. When a person is vain, they take better care of themselves…watch their weight, get the proper amount of sleep and so forth in order to look their best."

Noting that her argument was sound, Matthew nodded and then exclaimed, "You are a marvel, darling. I believe that is the first time I have ever heard a convincing case for narcissism."

"Well, there is a first time for everything," Mary replied smugly. Then she took one last look around the room before asking Matthew to carry down her toilette case.

The rest of their luggage had already been strapped to the two cars that would transport them to London. Matthew would drive the first to Edith and Evelyn's townhouse, where he, Mary and their children would spend the night. Tom would transport Robert and Cora in the second to his sister Rosamund's residence in Belgravia, the Earl having promised his sister a long overdue visit.

They would take the boat train the next morning to Southampton and meet the Bates at the White Star terminal at an assigned time, John having opted to spend the travel time alone with his wife and son before their trip.

Now, as he raised the glass containing a fine brandy to his lips, Matthew was glad the family had agreed upon the arrangement. He was thoroughly enjoying both Tom and Evelyn's company, Mary and Edith were getting along famously and the Crawley and Napier children were happy to spend some time with their cousins.

Marigold, Edith's first child by Michael Gregson, had lived at Downton for some time before Edith married Evelyn and she and Victoria had formed a strong bond, especially since they were so close in age. It was evident by their fits of giggles that they were enjoying their reunion.

Alexander and Vivienne, Edith and Evelyn's children by marriage, were exceptionally well-behaved for children their age and grateful to be included in their older cousin's activities.

The only fly in the ointment was that Tom's future bride, Catherine, was unable to join them as she had been called to the hospital to assist in an emergency surgery.

Matthew wished the night hadn't had to come to a close so soon but knew if he and Mary didn't retire early, they would be exhausted the next day. They had to be at the train station quite early to ensure there was enough time to load their luggage, though the train didn't depart until 11:30.

He hadn't realized until he climbed into the four-poster bed how tired he was. The mattress was soft and feather pillows made him feel as though he were resting his head on a cloud.

"This bed is heaven," Mary sighed, taking the words out of his mouth. "I wish I could spend a bit more time in it instead of rising at the crack of dawn to set off for Southampton."

"Darling, I am sure that you know that we won't be rising with the sun, but I, too, wish we could linger a bit longer in the morning. The last few days have felt like a whirlwind and I'm spent."

Mary then painted a mental picture for him of the two of them on the Olympic, laying side by side on matching deck chairs as rays of sun and a light ocean breeze washed over their faces.

"One can hope," Matthew mumbled, already half asleep. "No rain…seasickness. Good night, darling."

She frowned at that and began plumping her pillow until it suited her. Then she moved closer to her husband, and upon resting her head down replied, "I'm remaining optimistic….but we'll bring umbrellas and an ample supply of ginger tea just in case."

XXX

Matthew held tightly onto Victoria's hand as the locomotive roared into London's Waterloo station. The noise made it impossible to hear what Mary was saying to him and he cupped one of his ears with his free hand and shook his head to indicate as much. That prompted his wife to nod and point her index finger in the direction of their daughter's shoes.

For a moment he felt as though he and Mary were playing charades or as the Crawley's called it, " _The Game"_ that had become a tradition on Christmas Day. Following Mary's directive, he found the lace on one of Victoria's shoes had become untied and quickly bent down to rectify it. Their daughter was, of course, able to tie her own shoes, but in the interest of safety, he opted to do it himself. They were after all mere inches away from a moving train.

While pulling one loop through the other, he caught sight of the time on his watch and noted that the first class ocean liner special that would transport them to the Whitestar dock at Southampton had arrived exactly on time. _A good omen_ , he told himself as rose and took back his daughter's hand. Then he gave Mary's a thumb's up with his free one as the screeching sound of the braking train filled the air.

He felt Victoria give his hand a squeeze to get his attention and looked down to find her smiling up at him. Then she shouted, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Matthew mouthed, knowing he would only strain his vocal chords in an attempt to be heard.

Soon thereafter, the train came to a complete stop and the sound of screeching wheels was replaced by the strained voice of a train conductor, a thin man with a mustache, bellowing "All Aboard".

Still holding onto his daughter, Matthew turned his head to locate the rest of his family and found his mother and father-in-law blocked by an elderly couple shuffling along slowly with the assistance of a middle-aged man who appeared to be a relative.

He noted that Robert appeared frustrated as his and Cora's progress was delayed and he sympathized with him.

Mary, Tom and George had fortuitously found themselves positioned in front of the human barrier and quickly were at his side.

"If this keeps up, Papa and Mama will be left behind," she said, shaking her head with annoyance.

Tom laughed, "Don't worry, though your father has exquisite manners, he will give in to his impatience in another minute or two.

He did just that a few moments later, tapping the elderly man on the shoulder and upon getting his attention, saying with not a hint of agitation in his velvety voice, "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but my wife and I have traveled a long way to see my daughter and son-in-law off on their voyage and we will miss doing so if we don't move along."

At that, the couple stopped dead in their tracks and the man assisting them apologized for the delay and gestured for Robert and Cora to pass them.

"All aboard!" rose above the sound of shuffling feet and chatter as the travelers made their way to their assigned car. "Last Call…All Aboard!."

Matthew found their first class carriage car luxurious, the rich mahogany paneled walls, polished brass light fixtures and stylish carpeting a small preview of what he expected their accommodations would be like on the Olympic.

Thankfully they all settled into their thickly cushioned seats long before the train left the station and long enough to witness the aging couple that had held up the Earl and Countess board the carriage car behind theirs.

George stretched his neck to see what held the rest of his family's interest and finding the source said, "I think you handled that situation splendidly, Grandfather. You didn't sound the least bit annoyed when you advised that gentleman that he needed to move along."

"Why thank you, George," the Earl replied, beaming at his grandson's praise. "I have to admit it isn't always easy, but it is important that a gentleman strive to remain polite and composed in any situation. If I have provided you with a good example, I am glad of it."

Matthew interjected, "You have always provided him with good example, Robert."

"As have you, son," he replied. George is turning into a fine young man, one we can all be proud of."

The future heir blushed at the praise before thanking the Earl. Then he pulled a folded booklet out of his back pocket and began reading it.

"Well, I would imagine now that they are finally on board, we can get moving," Robert exclaimed.

"You should be more empathetic, Robert," Cora said, playfully tapping his arm. "It won't be long until someone in our family will have to apologize for us holding someone up."

"Absolutely not," the Earl shot back. "You and I will have the common decency to stay home when we get that old."

Tom declared that he was going to hold him to that, which led to Matthew, Mary and Cora bursting into laughter and Victoria and George smiling at the adult's antics.

Their merriment continued as they pulled out of the station, intermingled with the chugging sound of the wheels in motion as the train picked up steam.

XXX

Victoria remained quiet with her eyes fixed on the window from the moment they left London, taking in as much detail as she could of the rapidly passing scenery on the other side of the glass. Her brother, on the other hand became quite vocal once he decided the information he was reading should be shared.

"Southampton is called the 'Gateway to the World", he began to read out loud. "Situated within the complete shelter of the Isle of Wight and enjoying the rare distinction of high tide four times a day make it is a port of considerable importance. Its ideal position on the south coast and its intensely populated hinterland have been fully exploited…in pursuing a policy of enterprise and foresight."

Matthew smiled at Mary and then said, "That is very interesting, George."

"I agree, Father," he replied before continuing, "It says here that the difference between high and low tide is on average only five feet and at its narrowest part, the approaches to the port along Southampton Water are over 600 feet wide – equivalent to a 16-lane motorway. No wonder it gets such heavy traffic."

Mary chuckled, "That's quite a good pun, George, though I don't think you made it intentionally.

"No matter if it was intentional or not, it still was quite witty" Matthew interjected.

George thanked them both and then returned to reading, offering additional information about their destination whenever he found it worthwhile.

Occasionally, his son's outbursts broke him out of the trance he found himself in, a result of the motion of the train and repetitive sound it made as it chugged along the tracks. In fact, there were a few times that Matthew felt his eyes closing and had to shake his head to stay awake.

This time, however, it was the briny scent of the sea streaming through a crack in the upper half of the carriage window that brought him out of his stupor. He found the salty air that filled the car invigorating and inhaled deeply, each breath he took clearing his head along with his sinuses.

 _We've arrived_ , he told himself, as the distinct smell signaled their final destination was at hand.

Victoria confirmed as much when she exclaimed, "Oh, my. How beautiful it is."

Everyone in the car turned their head in unison, and finding a picturesque view of the port, nodded their heads in agreement with the youngest Crawley.

"Yes, sweetheart, quite beautiful," Matthew agreed as his eyes feasted on the bright blue sky and body of water beneath it that mirrored its hue. A smattering of translucent white clouds edged with gold by the sun they concealed captivated his attention, leading him to ponder the role divinity played in such a magnificent display. Then his gaze was drawn to the seagulls soaring in their domain, grey specks zigzagging through the heavens at this distance.

The view of the harbour touched him in a different way. He could feel his blood surge as he took in the array of vessels that navigated it - tug boats and pilots cutting through the waves, a large freighter coming into port and two fishing boats heading out to sea. In the distance, he saw a splash of red headed for shore and thought it must be the red ferry George mentioned transporting passengers to the mainland from the Isle of Wight.

He saw that there were many ships berthed, too, some having cargo loaded or unloaded and two massive ocean liners docked. There was no mistaking which one they were headed for, though, as the Olympic was easily identifiable, being identical to the ship that graced every newspaper's front page around the world in 1912, The Titanic.

"It is like looking at a ghost," Robert said solemnly. "I knew it would but seeing it with my own eyes isn't the same as knowing, if that makes any sense."

Mary took hold of her father's hand, "I'm sorry if this is drudging up painful memories for you, Papa."

The earl shook his head, "No…no…There will be none of that. Your Mama and I are here to send you and your family off to America with smiles on our faces and yours. Forgive me, dear."

"There is nothing to forgive," she replied, and leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Well, this is it," Matthew said as the train began to slow, reaching the end of the line. "This is the Ocean dock. Our ship awaits us."

Victoria bounced up and down in her seat with excitement and George stuffed the pamphlet he had been reading back into his pocket.

"It is quite exciting, isn't it, Father."

"That it is, George," Matthew replied as the train came to a full stop.

They all rose then and began filing out of the carriage car, joining the throng of people headed for the White Star terminal where they would meet the Bates.

Matthew paused for a moment to offer Mary his arm and Victoria his hand. However, his daughter politely refused it, accepting instead her grandfather's outstretched palm.

"I'm going to miss him, Father," she offered by way of apology for her rejection.

"That is completely understandable, Victoria. No hard feelings," he replied with a smile.

George then followed suit, offering his grandmother his arm, which she took quickly, beaming at her first grandson.

It was then that Matthew noticed a familiar face in the crowd. At first, he convinced himself that the tall, handsome man with the swarthy complexion, dark eyes and boarding passes in his hand just resembled the one who had wooed his wife while she believed him dead. That stopped his stomach from doing somersaults for a few seconds. However, once he got a good look at the woman standing beside him, there was no doubt of his identity.

Turning to Mary he said, "Darling, I'm not sure if you will consider this a bad omen or not but it appears Tony and Mabel Foyle will be crossing the Atlantic with us."

XX

 **AN: I know it has been a long wait for an update, again, but I'm hoping it was worth the wait. I promise I'm working as fast as I can with a lot of RL setbacks.**

 **There is a lot of canon in this chapter as well as history. I hope you enjoy both.**

 **I think it is important to note that I researched what a family like the Crawleys would have had to do in order to keep their home. Many aristocrats lost theirs. The reason I kept 3 maids is because Downton had to have had employed many more in her glory days than what we saw on t.v.. I assume we just got Anna, Gwen and Daisy because Julian Fellowes felt there were enough characters to keep up with, already.**

 **Finally, I hope you will leave a review. They do motivate me to begin writing again.  
**

 **The next chapter will take you aboard the Titanic's sister ship as our favorite couple begins their journey to America. I hope you will come join them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Passage – Chapter 4**

 _"It is quite exciting, isn't it, Father."_

 _"That it is, George," Matthew replied as the train came to a full stop._

 _They all rose then and began filing out of the carriage car, joining the throng of people headed for the White Star terminal where they would meet the Bates._

 _Matthew paused for a moment to offer Mary his arm and Victoria his hand. However, his daughter politely refused it, accepting instead her grandfather's outstretched palm._

 _"I'm going to miss him, Father," she offered by way of apology for her rejection._

 _"That is completely understandable, Victoria. No hard feelings," he replied with a smile._

 _George then followed suit, offering his grandmother his arm, which she took quickly, beaming at her first grandson._

 _It was then that Matthew noticed a familiar face in the crowd. At first, he convinced himself that the tall, handsome man with the swarthy complexion, dark eyes and boarding passes in his hand just resembled the one who had wooed his wife while she believed him dead. That stopped his stomach from doing somersaults for a few seconds. However, once he got a good look at the woman standing beside him, there was no doubt of his identity._

 _Turning to Mary he said, "Darling, I'm not sure if you will consider this a bad omen or not but it appears Tony and Mabel Foyle will be crossing the Atlantic with us."_

XX

May 11th – Ocean Dock, Southampton

Matthew couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he had seen his wife appear so utterly astonished by something he had said. She appeared gobsmacked by the news, her eyes wide and mouth hanging half open as her brain processed the unpleasant information that he had relayed to her.

"Darling, are you quite all right?" he whispered in her ear.

Mary blinked, then nodded slowly, "Yes, I'm fine, Matthew…It's just…What are the odds?"

"What are the odds of any of this?" he replied. "I feel as though we've gone through the looking glass."

The sight of the Foyles weaving their way through the moving crowd in their direction reminded him, however, of the reality of the situation and he cursed under his breath at the misfortunate turn of events.

His thoughts went then to the first time he laid eyes on Tony Foyle, a moment in time he would never forget as it took place on the same day that he regained his memory and returned to his life at Downton.

He and Mary were making their way to the nursery to visit George when they came upon him and another chap he didn't recognize huddled together near the stairs leading up to the gallery, the two speaking in hushed tones until they took notice of them and abruptly ended their conversation.

As if the chance encounter occurred yesterday, he recalled Mary's face flushing at the sight of the men as well as how each one reacted when she introduced him as her husband.

The shorter of the two was presented to him as Charles Blake, a government employee who had spent some time at Downton in preparing a report on the viability of the estates in the county. He smiled broadly at him, grasped his hand and expressed how happy he was to learn that he was alive.

Tony Foyle, introduced as Lord Gillingham, a childhood friend, had reacted much differently, however. Although his manners were impeccable, as one would expect of a gentleman, he exuded little warmth toward him and his welcoming words didn't ring true.

Matthew learned why that was the case later that evening when he and Mary lay in bed and she confessed that both men had sought a romantic relationship with her, but Gillingham had gone so far as to break his engagement to another woman in order to pursue it.

She reluctantly admitted, too, that she found it impossible to resist his romantic overtures and had succumbed to a kiss or two.

That stung.

The only balm to his wound was learning that Mary put an end to the budding romance when pressed for more because he still filled her head and heart.

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, Lord Gillingham returned to the Honourable Mabel Lane Fox with his tail firmly planted between his legs, begging for a second chance.

She gave it to him and they were married soon thereafter. So soon, in fact, that when Mabel gave birth to a baby girl eighth month's later, there were many raised eyebrows in the county as well as in London.

Over the years, he and Mary had avoided the couple whenever possible, not only because it made for an uncomfortable situation for them but also for Anna's sake as he would always be a reminder of the horrific ordeal she suffered at the hands of his valet years earlier.

Now he could only hope that the extent of their interaction with the Foyles in the week ahead would be minimal.

"I told Tony it was you, Mary, but…he insisted…I must be… mistaken," Mabel managed to eek out, somewhat out of breath as a result of her recent sprint across the platform. "I'm afraid…his vision isn't …what it…used to be."

"Is there anyone amongst us whose is?" Mary smiled, extending her hands to the Viscountess and planting a kiss on her rouged cheek.

At that, the Earl began to chuckle, the sound drawing Mabel's attention to him and Cora.

Having recovered from her exertion, she flashed them a brilliant smile and exclaimed, "Lord and Lady Grantham, it is so lovely to see you again, especially looking so well." Then she fixed her gaze on Tom, eyed him over appreciatively from head to toe and gushed, "As do you, Mr. Branson…exceedingly well."

Mary had told him that in 1922, Mabel Lane Fox was the most sought after heiress of the season. Taking in her appearance now, Matthew found she would still be considered desirable by many a man. Her skin was flawless and pale blue eyes quite lovely, the color accentuated by her dark hair. Chin length, it fell in gentle waves around her face, enhancing her fine bone structure and full lips.

She knew how to make the most of her assets, too, as the cut of her stylish dress and wide belt enhanced her figure, drawing attention away from the few extra pounds she had gained since the last time he saw her.

Getting a close look at her husband, Matthew wished he hadn't fared as well. He was acquainted with men Tony's age who were balding and others whose waistlines had expanded to the point of their needing suspenders to keep their trousers from dipping below their ever-expanding stomachs.

Lord Gillingham, however, fell into neither category. In fact, he appeared quite dapper in his double breasted, pin-striped suit, the only signs of his aging, some specks of grey intermingling with his nearly black locks and fine lines in the corners of his eyes that were only visible when he smiled, which he was doing now.

"It is wonderful to see you again, Mary," he said with exuberance. "As it is you, Matthew," he added in a much more sedate tone before taking hold of the hand that had been extended to him. "When Mabel caught sight of you two in the crowd and informed me, I could hardly believe my ears. After all, what are the odds?"

"Mary and I have asked ourselves the same question," Matthew said, giving his wife a subtle wink before breaking free of Tony's grasp.

He was happy to do so, too, as he found the man's palm warm and damp; so much so, that he was hard pressed not to wipe his own on his trousers.

Watching the effect that Mary had on her former suitor provided Matthew with his answer as to the cause of it. He was a bundle of nerves in her presence, stumbling over his words and unable to look at her directly for more than a few seconds without shifting his gaze. He almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

The knowledge that the man standing before him had held Mary in his arms and kissed her was unnerving, even after all these years. In all fairness, he couldn't and didn't blame either of them for what had transpired as they both had believed him dead. Yet the sight of Tony Foyle standing in close proximity to his wife still rattled him.

"Lord Grantham tells me you, Mary and your children are off to see her grandmother in Newport and that the rest of your family is here to see you off. Is your dear mother and her husband here as well?" Tony asked, breaking him out of his musings.

Matthew relayed that Isobel and Dr. Clarkson were in Stockholm attending a medical convention. He wished it weren't so as his mother had an uncanny knack of easing tense situations, and this perchance meeting definitely fell into that category.

Tony nodded and then touched upon the reason their paths had crossed, disclosing that the lavish trip they were about to embark on was an anniversary gift from his wife, a second honeymoon of sorts.

 _Lavish indeed,_ Matthew thought, familiar with the cost of first class accommodations _. Though her husband may have married her on the rebound, she values that marriage very much._

"We both have made the crossing several times on our own, of course," he added matter-of-factly. "However, this will be the first time that we will be doing so together…and on the Olympic. I'm sure it will be a memorable experience for us both."

"No doubt it will be for all of us," Matthew replied, and searched for another topic to keep the conversation flowing.

None came quickly to mind, however, and he was grateful when he heard Tony addressing his son.

"And this fine looking young chap must be George," he exclaimed, reaching over and patting him on the head. "My word, you have grown in leaps and bounds. You barely reached your father's waist the last time I came upon the two of you at the county fair…although, if memory serves me, your stature didn't prevent you from sinking a ball through a hoop that had eluded men twice your size, garnering you a prize."

Recalling the memory, George bowed his head and smiled, "It is a pleasure to see you, again, Lord Gillingham."

Matthew recalled that night, too, and broke into a grin as a mental image of his son's face the moment the ball swooshed through the open rim came to mind. The lad had attempted the shot several times before he finally hit his mark, and George's perseverance had filled him with pride.

"He does that routinely, now," he proclaimed. "It pains me to say that he puts me to shame every year."

Lady Gillingham joined the conversation then, having finished flattering Tom to the point of making him blush.

After politely addressing him and George, she turned her sights on the youngest Crawley present and smiled, "And you must be Victoria. Our daughter has spoken of you quite often."

Victoria nodded and curtsied, "I am happy to meet you Lord and Lady Gillingham. Gertrude and I sit next to one another in class and have become great friends."

Mary cut in then, suggesting that the child come to Downton soon, as a visit would no doubt please both girls.

"That's very kind of you, Mary," Mabel said. "I'm sure Gertrude would love to…and since it seems we will be traveling together this week, there will be plenty of time to work out the details."

Having exhausted the small pleasantries one makes when running into old friends that no longer play a significant role in your life, an awkward silence ensued until Tom broke it by volunteering to secure a porter to navigate the luggage.

"That isn't necessary, Tom," Matthew balked. "I will take care of it."

His brother-in-law would not be dissuaded, however, and insisted, "I am happy to do it. Enjoy your remaining time with Robert and Cora." Then he came closer and whispered, "I'll be back before your appointed time to join the Bates"

At that an alarm went off in Matthew's head. He was so taken aback by discovering that the Foyles would be traveling with them that he hadn't thought about how the news would affect Anna and John Bates.

Their lives had been turned upside down after Gillingham's valet, Mr. Green, was killed and each of them in turn indicted and incarcerated as the culprit. In fact, if it hadn't been for his friend at Scotland Yard, Detective Cosgrove, uncovering the true murderer, either one of them may have been sent to the gallows for a crime they hadn't committed.

"Speaking of luggage," Mabel chimed in, placing her hand on her husband's arm, "I think we had better check to see that ours isn't being misdirected." Her gaze fixed then on the Earl and Countess, and she lamented, "Tony's new valet isn't always up to par. It is so difficult to get good help these days."

Robert nodded and commiserated, "So much has changed since the war ended. I sometimes long for the days gone by."

Matthew wished his father-in-law had not touched upon the days before the war as it usually led to a lengthy conversation and he was eager to speak with his wife regarding the unfortunate news they would have to relay to the Bates.

Cora and Mary sighed but thankfully remained silent and Robert didn't extrapolate on his comment.

 _Three down and two to go,_ he thought.

The Foyles followed suit, their concern for their luggage apparently outweighing their desire to take a walk down memory lane, and after bidding the Crawley's 'adieu', they left as quickly as they came.

Once they were out of hearing range, he turned to Mary and found her rolling her eyes in dismay as she echoed his thoughts out loud.

"The Bates will be so distressed by this turn of events. I can't imagine what Anna will do now"

XX

In the hubbub, no-one had thought to advise Tom where to meet them once he his mission was accomplished. Therefore, they all agreed it was best to stay put until he returned.

I'm sure he won't be long, darling," Matthew declared upon finding his wife tapping her foot with impatience.

Noting his assurance did nothing to soothe her, he was grateful when Cora, likely picking up on her daughter's agitation, moved to Mary's side and drew her into some idle conversation that effectively put an end to her fidgeting.

Matthew turned to Robert then, who stood with the children a few yards away, and found they were all happily discussing some points of interest in Southampton.

That left him to his own devices, and he decided he would put the time that remained to good use by getting a closer look at the ship that would carry him and his family to America.

The RMS Olympic had held the title of the largest British liner ever built during three periods of time since it was launched in 1910. That didn't surprise Matthew as he stood on the dock where she was moored, taking in her massive size. At 882 ½ feet long, 92 feet broad and 175 feet high from its keel to the top of its funnels, it seemed impossible that such a colossal vessel had been built by mere mortals.

Focusing his eyes on the port side of the ship, Matthew's gaze moved slowly upward from the black hull to the red boot that topped the waterline and then on to the white superstructure that spread across three quarters of the ship, topped off by four buff colored funnels with a broad black band, each equally proportioned and spaced.

His gaze fixed then on the tall masts that were stepped fore and aft. Craning his neck back as far as he could, he saw that the American ensign, sometimes referred to as the destination flag, was flying at foremast and the cruise liner's house flag at the main mast, its signature tapered swallowtail and white star flapping in the breeze.

Matthew was aware that the American ensign would change to the French once the Olympic reached Cherbourg, a short distance across the Channel, where the ship would drop anchor in order to pick up passengers that would be ferried out along with any cargo and baggage. The same procedure would take place on the southern coast of Ireland at Queenstown, where the final passengers would be brought aboard along with a hefty amount of mail.

The American flag would be raised again once the ship reached New York harbor and flown daily from 8am to sunset during her entire time in port.

An aggravating ache at the back of his neck prompted him to return his head, which had rested between his shoulders for some time, to its normal position and he began kneading the knot that had formed there.

Engrossed as he was in his observations and ministrations to relieve his pain, Matthew hadn't heard his wife come up behind him and nearly jumped out of his skin when she placed her hand over his.

"Is something wrong, Matthew? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He shook his head, "I'm fine, darling. I didn't know you were behind me and….you just startled me. That's all."

"And you were massaging your neck because….?"

"It became stiff from my misuse," he smiled. "I've been giving the Olympic a once over from top to bottom."

Mary nodded, "I see. That is all well and good, but Tom is back and we are set to meet the Bates inside the terminal in five minutes, so I hope that your observations are complete. You know how prompt they are and I don't want to be late, even though I'm dreading the conversation that awaits us."

Matthew dreaded it, too, but there was no escaping it. He nodded his head and looped his arm through hers, guiding her through the crowd toward the large white structure that loomed before them.

XX

The White Star terminal at berth #46 was teeming with activity as passengers waited in line to present their boarding passes to the appropriate White Star personnel, those who came to see them off mulled about and porters weaved through the crowd with baggage piled high on dollies en route to the ship.

Matthew's eyes scanned through the crowd for the Bates and after a few moments found the couple waving their hands excitedly at him and Mary with bright smiles on their faces. The sight made his heart lurch as he knew their happiness wouldn't last for long.

While in service at Downton, Anna had avoided Tony Foyle like the plague whenever he visited. Mary had managed to keep those visits few and far between. But now, no-one could prevent their running into one another.

Coming straight to the point, Matthew informed the couple that Lord and Lady Gillingham would be making the journey with them. Then he sighed as their smiles evaporated before his eyes.

Anna's fair skin turn a shade paler as she processed the information and faced her predicament while John Bates' eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched with anger.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am about this, Anna," Mary offered, shaking her head with disgust over the matter. "This is clearly not something any of us ever imagined would happen when we made our plans."

Anna sighed, "I'm old enough to know that life is full of surprises.' Then looking pointedly at Matthew, she added, "Unfortunately, not all of them are good ones."

Matthew and Mary nodded in agreement. Then the four were silent, each appearing to be at a loss as to what to do next until John Bates cleared his throat and said, "Lady Mary, I know time is short, but Anna and I will need a few minutes alone to decide what to do about the quandary we find ourselves in."

"Of course, Mr. Bates," she nodded. "I understand completely."

At that, the two couples broke apart, the Bates moving to a relatively quiet spot about 20 feet away in order to discuss the problem at hand.

"What do you think they'll decide? Mathew asked, doing his best but failing to keep his eyes off John and Anna.

Mary shrugged her shoulders, "I can't say for sure. If I were in her shoes, I likely would be fantasizing about pushing Tony Foyle overboard right about now but Anna is a kind soul. She knows he had no knowledge of his valet raping her…and to his credit, he did dismiss the man immediately at my urging, even though I gave him no reason to do so as she did not want her attack made public."

"I think her decision to travel or not will depend on whether she has put the past far enough behind her to risk the chance of running into him and stirring up old memories."

"That and whether or not she could bear the disappointment on her son's face if she cancelled their trip," Mary opined.

Through veiled eyes, Matthew saw that Bates was scratching his head, a sure sign that he was confused as to what advice he should give his wife. Putting himself in the man's shoes, he decided there really was none he could give. All Bates could do was remind his wife of the risk she would be taking should she decide to go ahead with the trip. Anna alone would have to decide if that risk were worth taking.

The former maid rattled on for at least a minute without interruption while her husband listened intently with his arms crossed on his chest. Then Anna stopped speaking and Bates took the floor. He spoke in short spurts as one would when asking a question, moving on to the next once his wife nodded or shook her head.

That exchange went on for some time and Matthew worried that if Anna didn't make a decision soon, it would be made for her as the ship was set to sail.

He let out a sigh of relief when out of the corner of his eye, he saw John Bates drop his arms, take his wife's hands in his and kiss them before leading her their way.

Quickly, he averted his gaze to Mary, gesturing to her with a nod of his head that the couple was on their way.

"Though I am not thrilled with the prospect of seeing Lord Gillingham again, I am not going to allow his presence, which will likely be minimal since I'll be spending most of my time with the children, to deprive JR or me of what I am sure will be a wonderful experience for us both. There will be no change in plan on my part," Anna smiled. "However, I think it best that our son and I board the ship ahead of you. It will lessen the chance of my running into Lord Gillingham straight away or his recognizing me if we do cross paths as he likely will not remember me without Lady Mary at my side."

"You're probably right about that, Anna," Mary said. Then she pulled her into a quick embrace and whispered, "I'm thrilled that you have decided to come with us."

Matthew reached for Bates' hand and said, "We'll take good care of your wife and son. You have my word."

"I have no doubt of it, Mr. Crawley and I'm grateful to you both," he replied.

With little time to spare, the two couples parted then to make their final farewells.

XX

It was clear to Matthew that the Countess of Grantham was reluctant to let go of her eldest daughter and only did so at her husband's urging after Mary promised she would write as soon as she reached her cousin Rose and her husband, Atticus's residence in New York City, where they would stay for the night before heading to Newport.

"Please give them both my love, darling….and ask Rose to send me a recent photograph of her Victoria. I can't believe her daughter will be turning 10 soon. No doubt she will get along famously with ours," Cora gushed before moving aside so that Robert could bid Mary farewell.

"I am going to miss you all terribly…and if I'm being honest, which I always have been with you, my beautiful daughter, I will not rest easy until I know your feet are planted firmly on land, again."

The Earl sighed then before asking Mary to forgive him if he sounded like a ninny, adding that he couldn't help it as the thought of history repeating itself still weighed heavily on his mind.

"Oh, Papa…you must try not to worry. Remember what Tom said about the ship. The Olympic is perfectly sound…and in the highly unlikely event that an accident did occur, precautions have been put in place to ensure the safety of its passengers. We will all be fine…but if you don't stop fretting, you won't be as this anxiety surely must be aggravating your ulcer…Now, you must put an end to this nonsense, or I will begin worrying about you and have an abysmal time abroad. You don't want that, do you?"

"Of course, I don't," the Earl snapped. Then his face and tone relaxed and he smiled, "That is the last thing I want. In fact, my fervent wish is that you all will have what your American grandmother would refer to as, "a blast!"

Mary laughed at that, gave her father one last hug and moved on to Tom, who had been rolling his eyes behind Robert's head with impatience for the last minute.

"You take good care of him…him and Downton," Mary commanded. Her voice softened then as she continued, "I know it is a lot to ask, but I can't think of anyone who is more up to the task than you, Tom."

"Your confidence in me is duly noted and appreciated, Mary, and rest assured it is not misplaced. Both Downton and your father will be standing tall upon your return," he declared before planting a quick peck on her cheek.

Matthew brought up the rear behind his son and daughter as they bid their grandparents and uncle farewell.

George addressed the Earl first, advising him that Horus's favorite ball was on his bed should he be looking for it before extending his hand as a proper gentleman would when he parts with another. Robert grasped it and beamed at his future heir for a long moment, his eyes becoming misty. Then he released his grandson's hand and directed him to his grandmother, who was waiting with open arms.

Victoria advanced slowly and grinned up at her grandfather before pulling her yo-yo out of the pocket of her favorite red jacket and handing it to him. She then reminded him that he must practice with Uncle Tom before rising on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek, leaving him with a broad grin on his face.

Then it was Matthew's turn to bid his father-in-law adieu.

Firmly clasping the Earl's hand, he did his best to reassure him that all would be fine both at Downton and on their voyage. "You mustn't worry, Robert. I certainly will not as I have no doubt we will arrive in America safe and sound and that Downton is being left in very capable hands."

"I will do my best on all counts, Matthew. You have my word, Son. Now, you had better get going or Mary will think I have hijacked you," he jested.

Matthew smiled, released his hand and urged Victoria and George forward toward Mary, standing near the entrance to the gangway.

To his surprise, no sooner had he planted his first step on the planking than his son blurted "Excuse me, Father" and took off at a fast clip back to Robert, who appeared as surprised by George's about face as he was.

Reaching his grandfather, he slowed down long enough to wrap his arms around him and squeeze tightly before pivoting on his heels and racing back to his father's side.

He is going to miss you, too, George..," Matthew said as he straightened his cap. "…But just think of how wonderful it is going to be when we return. You will have so much to share with him about our trip."

At that, George perked up and agreed, "No doubt I'll have many exciting tales to tell. It is going to be quite an adventure, isn't it, Father?"

"That it will be, George," Matthew grinned and then led his children to join their mother.

XX

Mary and Victoria took the lead with Matthew and George in tow, the four of them moving quickly across the divide that separated the dock from the ship. The gangway would take them to B Deck, which housed the first class reception room as well as the suite they would occupy in the days ahead.

Reaching the end of the gangplank, they moved to an empty spot at the railing, their eyes searching for their family amidst the horde of well-wishers waving their handkerchiefs and shouting "Bon Voyage."

"There they are," Mary cried out, loud enough to be heard above the commotion. "Papa managed to get a spot right in front on the second level."

"He must have paid someone dearly for it," Matthew shouted above the noise of the crowd as he pointed out where Robert, Cora and Tom were huddled together calling out their names to the children.

Mary pulled a white handkerchief with a lace border from her sleeve and passed it to Victoria, who began waving it with gusto in the air, a wide grin plastered on her face.

Taking note of the other passengers doing the same, George took his own out of his pant pocket and passed it to his mother.

Then he turned to his father and smiled sheepishly, "I didn't want Mother to be empty handed. Women do seem to like this sort of thing."

She did, too, and grinned like a Cheshire cat as she kept pace with her daughter, waving the crisp white linen square overhead until the line of passengers coming up the gangplank petered out and it was detached from the ship.

The crowd on the dock roared at the sight of it, their cheers making it impossible for Matthew to hear what George was saying as he pointed to a seaman who was casting one of the thick hawsers into the water, creating a splash.

Then the ship's horn blasted two long bursts, prompting Victoria to jump before covering her ears with her hands. Catching Mary's eye, he grinned before placing his own over George's ears as he knew what was coming next. As the Olympic moved slowly in reverse, three long blasts filled the air, the familiar sound echoing throughout Southampton.

Five tugs gently edged the massive liner into the main channel and turned her bow downstream. Once their mission was complete, the boats cast off their lines and moved clear of the ship before its propellers began turning.

As the small crafts raced back to the dock, the sun burst through a mass of clouds, continuing its game of hide and seek. Matthew felt the warmth of its rays penetrate through his suit jacket just as a cool breeze washed over his face, and he reveled in both.

It was a fine day to set sail. A good omen, he told himself. No umbrellas or buckets needed.

He turned to Mary then, and not for the first time marveled at how lovely she was. Anna had been right about her being a timeless beauty.

She was smiling broadly at him now, which further enhanced her appeal as she pushed a few tendrils of hair that had escaped their bounds out of her eyes.

"It is going to be wonderful, Matthew," she exclaimed.

Returning her smile, he nodded his head, and for the first time since Martha Levinson's letters arrived, he felt optimistic that it would be.

XX

Matthew found himself in awe of his surroundings, which did not happen often as he was accustomed to opulence, having lived at Downton Abbey for over a decade and not easily impressed.

Yet who wouldn't be when confronted with what could only be described as the grandest staircase he had every seen, its marble steps, fine timbers and statuettes sheer perfection.

It was nearly 20 feet wide at its base with elegant carved wall panels running around it and banisters containing elaborate wrought iron grilles and ormolu swags in the Louis XIV style; the panels of the newel posts etched with relief garlands, each in a unique design and topped by a pineapple filial.

The stairwell was bathed in golden sunlight which filtered through a massive lead and glass dome that capped it, one level up from where he stood. It was fringed with a delicately molded entablature and at its center hung a spectacular crystal and gild chandelier that sparkled like diamonds.

George had told him the staircase rose 60 feet, encompassing six levels of the ship from decks A to E in descending order from the water line and each stair landing forked fore and aft to the Olympic's cabins, suites, public rooms and facilities.

Scanning his surroundings, he took in the rich furnishings, potted trees and an array of floral arrangements so tastefully done, that he felt certain the Dowager Countess would leave them in tact if she were here. Each sat on a table that shone like glass, bolted securely to the floor, as all the furniture on the ship would be in the event the sea turned rough.

Victoria tugged at his sleeve, breaking his attention away from the grandeur around him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, taking note of her wide eyes.

"It is like a floating palace, Father," she replied.

"Or perhaps a five-star hotel," Mary interjected, giving Victoria's braid a playful tug, which caused her to giggle.

"It takes your breath away, no matter what you call it," Matthew declared.

George chimed in, "Wait until you see the rest of the ship, Father. There is a heated swimming pool, Turkish baths, a gymnasium with rowing machines, stationary bicycles and an electric horse. I think Mother may like that. They also have a squash court, two libraries, reading and writing rooms and many luxurious places to eat, one that has French waiters and another, live palm trees."

Appearing astounded by the plethora of information her son had just rattled off, Mary looked at her husband and smiled, "Perhaps we don't need a steward, after all. Our son seems to have memorized all the information we need to know about the Olympic."

She turned to him then, her eyes twinkling, and asked in as serious a tone as she could muster, "The White Star Line didn't happen to send you any floor plans, did they, George? It would make finding our suite much easier."

He frowned, "I'm sorry, Mother. I can't help you there. No such diagram was provided to me."

Matthew suppressed his grin and cleared his throat before thanking George for the details he had provided, stating they would prove helpful in the days ahead when planning their activities.

Taking note of the multitude of passengers that were swarming like bees in the B-Deck reception area, he assumed they, too, would be taking advantage of the many recreational facilities available to them. Recalling how fit Tony was, he surmised he would frequent the gymnasium quite often and made a mental note to avoid it as much as possible.

Then seeing Mary gesture to an open spot, he corralled the children and followed her there, happy to get out of the way of the thrall of newcomers passing through the doorway.

Still, there was a general buzz of activity all around them as passengers sought out their cabins within the unfamiliar confines of the ship, baggage that was littering the lobby was moved out and stewards did what they could to restore some form of order.

Chatter filled the air, bits and pieces of conversations melding into one another as the new arrivals settled in and one in particular caught Matthew's attention.

Excuse me, young man.," a gentleman, who appeared about 10 year's older than he was with either a much younger wife or perhaps his daughter on his arm said, tapping a young man in uniform with wavy red hair that was held in place with pomade on the shoulder. "…I'm hoping you can help me in locating the lifts as I'm not feeling up to navigating two floors of stairs to reach our cabin, as lovely as they may be."

"I'm happy to help, Sir," the steward replied, "There are three just around that bend that traverse all decks. Once you reach the one you seek, there will be someone on hand to give you further direction."

At that, the man patted his companion's hand and smiled, "Don't worry, my dear. I am quite capable of descending the stairs, so your new gowns will not go unnoticed."

Matthew chuckled softly, still uncertain as to the relationship between the man and woman, but not her vanity.

His attention was drawn then to an elderly man who was making use of his cane to part the crowd. Reminiscent of someone who was blind, though he clearly was not, the crotchety old gent weaved it back and forth a few feet ahead of him, rudely nudging anyone in his path out of his way and shouting, "Coming through…coming through."

Taking in the ruckus, Mary lamented, "Apparently he thinks old age entitles him to be discourteous. Someone should tell him it does not."

"Don't be too hard on him," Matthew interjected. "I overheard him asking for directions to the loo a few moments ago. At his advanced age, he may have had no option but to forego his manners in order to spare him and those around him grave embarrassment."

She nodded, taking his meaning, and sighed, "I hope Mama and Papa never find themselves in that predicament…or heaven forbid, either of us."

He nodded in agreement, shuddering as a mental image of himself with white hair and a bursting bladder filled his head.

"Sir, may I be of service," a man who appeared to be the head steward by his dress with olive colored skin and dark hair asked, thankfully breaking him out of his musings.

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Matthew replied, "You most certainly can."

XX

"Anna, what are you doing?" Mary exclaimed, entering the wardrobe room in the parlour suite they had been directed to and finding her erstwhile lady's maid hanging up one of her dresses.

Tugging gently on the bottom of the dress to smooth out a fine wrinkle, she replied, "No stewards dess has come yet and I thought it would be best to get these clothes out of the trunk before you had to have them pressed."

Mary rolled her eyes, "That is very kind of you, but I didn't invite you on this trip to be my maid. You must know that."

Anna nodded, "Of course, I do…but this is such a generous gift and I want to do something to repay you, even though I know there is nothing I can do that would. Please believe that I don't feel at all like a servant and haven't for many years. I just…Well, I'd like to be of help. Can we leave it at that?"

Strolling into the room with Victoria in tow, Matthew asked, "Leave what at that?" Then looking from Mary to Anna and noting their blank expressions, he added, "I'd be happy to spend some time with George and JR if I've walked into a conversation only meant for female ears."

Mary and Anna shook their heads and laughed, leaving him more perplexed than ever until his wife explained that she found Anna unpacking her trunk and just wanted to make it clear to her that was not invited to fill the role of her maid.

"Absolutely not," Matthew exclaimed. "We both want you to enjoy this trip, Anna. We greatly appreciate your kind offer to spend time with the children when we are out and expect no more from you."

"Will you at least allow me find a stewardess to get you unpacked? she replied. "I doubt my son will realize I'm missing since he is having so much fun with George."

Mary nodded and Matthew stepped off to the side, giving her clear access to the doorway.

Then Anna was off on her mission with Victoria on her heels, anxious to see what her brother was up to.

"Your grandmother must have spent a small fortune for this suite," Matthew declared. "The size alone astounds me, no less the amenities."

Taking in her surroundings, Mary wholeheartedly agreed that no expense was spared.

Their suite was large and elegantly furnished, boasting two bedrooms (the largest containing a double bed), a sitting room with a marble fireplace, wardrobe room and two adjoining cabins along with a private bath and toilet situated between them.

Each bedroom had thick wool carpeting and oak paneled walls decorated in the French style, fitted out with the most fashionable and modern décor.

They would also have access to a private veranda equipped with chairs, settees and tables.

Moving to the large open trunk in the center of the room, Mary said, "I think Anna was right about hanging up these clothes as soon as possible, Matthew. They are beginning to wrinkle already. Would you please bring me handful of hangars from that closet. I think I will get a head start on unpacking while I wait for the stewardess to arrive."

Matthew obliged her and then set off to unpack his own belongings, stopping briefly by George's room to check on him and JR.

The two boys were engaged in a game of chess under Victoria's watchful eyes. His focused on John Robert, as he hadn't seen the boy for a considerable amount of time.

He found the lad had grown since the he last saw him at Downton and judged he would surpass his mother's height before he reached George's age. No doubt, he owed his stature to his father and his fair complexion and blue eyes to Anna. The latter were focused intently at the game board in front of him, making it clear he had a competitive nature

Competition he would get, too, as George played chess often with his grandfather and had become quite adept at it, even dealing Robert a blow at times. Matthew soon discovered, however, that John Bates also had spent a considerable amount of time teaching his son to play. Eyeing the board, it appeared JR was holding his own in spite of his being nearly three years younger than his opponent

" May I join Mother, now?" Victoria asked, apparently tiring of the chess match.

"Yes, you may, sweetheart. I'm sure she would welcome the company…and perhaps a bit of help with the unpacking," Matthew said, hoping she would get his meaning.

"I would be happy to, Father," she replied, rising quickly and flouncing out of the room muttering something about finding Mickey Mouse.

He smiled, knowing she had insisted on taking Edith's gift with her on their trip and that Mary had relented and given her permission after securing Victoria's promise that she would not cry if it were lost.

Knowing how much Victoria valued the stuffed animal, he felt certain she would not let it out of her sight. In fact, he expected he would find it lying beside her in bed when he tucked her in later that night.

The mental image widened his grin and his spirits were high when he heard a knock on the door coming from the hallway. Thinking it must be Anna with the stewardess, he moved quickly to let them in.

George had told him that there were two parlor suites on B-Deck, one on each side of the ship, along with an array of first class cabins. As he opened the door and stood face to face the second time that day with Lord Gillingham, he held onto the hope that none of them housed him and his wife.

XX

Matthew had no choice but to invite the man in even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

As soon as Tony stepped over the threshold into the sitting room, he let out a long whistle of appreciation and exclaimed, "A parlour suite! I had heard Downton was doing well and expected you would be traveling first class, but I have to admit I was shocked when the Purser informed me of your whereabouts."

Matthew remained silent, not knowing how he should respond to Gillingham's remark as he wasn't sure if Mary would want anyone outside of the family to know their luxurious accommodations were a gift from her American grandmother. Then after a few moments of awkward silence, he asked his wife's former suitor what he could do for him in as pleasant a tone as he could manage.

The Viscount smiled, "Actually, I'm hoping I can do something for you…and Mary, of course. Mabel has arranged for Captain Binks to join us for dinner tomorrow evening and she would like you both to join us. I know you are probably still settling in but she insisted I make the offer now before you made any other plans."

"I see," Matthew said, feeling his stomach do a somersault as his worst fear regarding the Foyles came to fruition.

There was only one thing he could do now.

"Mary," he called out in the direction of the wardrobe room. "Darling, would you please come in here."

He heard the door open and his wife instructing Victoria to stop tossing the clothes about before she turned the corner.

Then he saw the expression on Tony's face change, his jaw dropping and eyes growing wide.

Following his line of vision he found Mary standing in the threshold of the room with a surprised look on her face and her favorite French knickers draped over her shoulder, the grey silk with cream colored lace and embroidered huntsmen hunting hares on full display.

Her eyebrow's rose at the sight of the two men's shocked expressions, clearly unaware of what they were staring at and blurted, "What is it? You're both looking at me as though I've grown a second head."

Matthew didn't know how quickly it took Tony Foyle to compose himself as he couldn't take his eyes off his wife.

"Darling, nothing is wrong…it is just…" he began and then paused as he searched for a way to ease what he knew would be embarrassment on her part. "Tony came by to invite us to join him, Mabel and the Captain tomorrow evening for dinner and I thought it best to ask you…"

She nodded her head, appearing somewhat relieved by his response but her curiosity still clearly piqued by their behavior.

"I see…that is very thoughtful of you and Mabel, Tony. Matthew and I haven't made any plans. We aren't fully settled in yet, actually, and…," she began.

There was no help for it, he told himself before he blurted, "Darling, there is something on your left shoulder that I believe you are unaware of and will no doubt want to remove."

Appearing more confused than ever, Mary averted her eyes to the spot she was directed to and her cheeks grew crimson.

"What in the name of…," she muttered as she tore the knickers from her shoulder with her right hand and shoved it behind her back.

After taking a few moments to regain her composure, she cleared her throat and offered both men an apology along with what she perceived to be the logical explanation for her faux pas.

'Victoria was helping me unpack a few things. She absentmindedly must have tossed the…um…garment to me when searching for Mickey," she said, her eyes glued on Matthew.

At that moment, Tony, who had been startled into silence once Mary had entered the room, found his voice.

"Mickey? Is she your maid? If I recall correctly, Lady Brentford's maid was called Mickey…a shortened version of Michaelena… and I thought perhaps…but I digress…In any event, I knocked on the cabin door that adjoins your suite to ascertain if I was given the correct information regarding your accommodations and a woman, who I assumed to be in your employ, confirmed you were here. She looked familiar to me but I couldn't recall her name."

Mary rolled her eyes and looked to her husband for support.

Feeling once more as if he had gone through the looking glass, Matthew shook his head and sighed, "She is not our maid…and Mickey is not a person…He is a mouse." Then pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he clarified, "More precisely, a stuffed mouse."

The look on Lord Gillingham's face would have been humorous under different circumstances, but Matthew found none now.

"Surely having a daughter the same age as ours, you have heard of Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse?" he said curtly, his patience reaching its limit.

"Aha…you mean the cartoon character.'" Tony cried out as if he had discovered King Tut's tomb. "I understand now."

After seeing the way the man had been eyeing his wife, Matthew did, too. Twelve years after he had done his best to woo her, Lord Gillingham still desired Mary, his passion likely flamed by the bird's eye view he just had of her lingerie.

He suddenly felt quite tired and longed to lie down, weary from the drama that seemed unending.

Apparently, his wife felt the same way since she basically dismissed Tony by pointing to the phone next to the arm chair and stating she would call his wife later regarding the dinner invitation.

"Am I to assume we are neighbors, then?" Mary added as an afterthought. "Is your cabin nearby?"

"No, I'm on top of you," Tony replied, his face reddening instantly as he realized his poor choice of words and then adding, "That is to say, my and Mabel's cabin is situated above your and Matthew's suite. Our cabin number is A-36."

Matthew scowled _. If ever there was a Freudian slip_.

Whether their uninvited guest saw it or not, he finally came to realize he was persona non grata and put an end to their misery by advising Mary that he would relay her message to his wife, thanking them both for their time, and making a swift exit.

"I'm sorry, darling." Mary said, bringing her arm back around, her hand still clutching the knickers. "About this…," she said looking down at the grey silk balled in her palm, "…and his showing up. I was hoping we could avoid the Foyles altogether."

Matthew was surprised to find that he still could smile but it came effortlessly now, all down to Mary.

She loved him and they were on the same page. Nothing else mattered.

He crossed the room in three long strides, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

XX

AN:

If you have written a Matthew/Mary story set in canon time period, I'd love to read it, so please IM me a link. I promise I will review it.

I havent't read a great deal of fan fiction lately because I've been so busy writing and find many Mary/Matthew stories are set in modern AU. I prefer as close to canon as possible.

I am very pleased with this chapter as I think it is my best work yet.

Hope to be hearing from you in review or PM

msmenna 😀

I always believed that Tony would carry a torch for Mary. It was clear by how ardently he pursued her in spite of his being engaged to "the most sought after heiress of the season." Let's not forget, too, that he did need Mabel's money and Mary was not an heiress when he broke his engagement to win her over.

As for the Olympic, a great deal of historic research has gone into my descriptions thus far and for future chapters. I'm hoping the vivid details of the ship will give you a clear picture of it and make the voyage realistic for you.

One more thing, I debated whether or not Mary and Matthew would call Anna and John by their Christian names, but after giving it a lot of thought, felt that it wouldn't ring true. After all, they had been their servants for a long time and they had become accustomed to calling them Anna and Bates. Also, the class system was still in place, no matter that John and Anna owned property of their own.

I know this chapter isn't as long as the last two, but it just felt right to end it here.

If you are enjoying the trip, please don't forget to leave a review. It truly does encourage me to dive back in!

(Sorry, I couldn't help the puns.)

SPOILER - Do not read if you don't like to be teased

In the next chapter, Tony Foyle's naval training will be put to goof use.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks to all who have been following this journey, especially to those who have been kind enough to leave a review. Please keep them coming.**

 _He suddenly felt quite tired and longed to lie down, weary from the drama that seemed unending._

 _Apparently, his wife felt the same way since she basically dismissed Tony by pointing to the phone next to the arm chair and stating she would call his wife later regarding the dinner invitation_

" _Am I to assume we are neighbors, then?" Mary added as an afterthought. "Is your cabin nearby?"_

 _"No, I'm on top of you," Tony replied, his face reddening instantly as he realized his poor choice of words and then adding, "That is to say, my and Mabel's cabin is situated above your and Matthew's suite. Our cabin number is A-36."_

 _Matthew scowled_ _. If ever there was a Freudian slip_ _._

 _Whether their uninvited guest saw it or not, he finally came to realize he was persona non grata and put an end to their misery by advising Mary that he would relay her message to his wife, thanking them both for their time, and making a swift exit._

 _"I'm sorry, darling." Mary said, bringing her arm back around, her hand still clutching the knickers. "About this…," she said looking down at the grey silk balled in her palm, "…and his showing up. I was hoping we could avoid the Foyles altogether."_

 _Matthew was surprised to find that he still could smile but it came effortlessly now, all down to Mary._

 _She loved him and they were on the same page. Nothing else mattered._

 _He crossed the room in three long strides, pulled her into his arms and kissed her._

 _xx_

 _CHAPTER 5_

Matthew derived great pleasure in kissing Mary and did so whenever an opportune moment was at hand. For a split second, as his lips claimed hers, it occurred to him that this was not one of those moments and an alarm went off in his head. Yet it ceased as soon as he felt his wife's arms wrap around his neck, her action rendering him incapable of logical thought.

Driven by his primal instincts, his palms encircled her bare shoulders and he pulled her closer, reveling in the feel of the exposed skin beneath his hands, soft as the petals of a rose with a scent that smelled as sweet.

Intoxicated by both, he pressed his body into Mary's and deepened their kiss, throwing caution to the wind. Then the sound of someone knocking on the door brought him back to his senses, dampening his ardor as quickly as if a cold bucket of water had been poured over him.

He mustered enough willpower to raise his head and take a step back, breaking their embrace. Then with ragged breath he uttered, "Considering we are in plain sight and one of the children could have come upon us, I suppose I am grateful for the interruption…but if Tony Foyle has returned, there is a good possibility that I will be sleeping in the brig tonight."

Mary broke out into raucous laughter, her flushed cheeks rising and the desire in her eyes replaced by merriment as Matthew's glib comment reached her ears.

"Darling, you must keep a tight reign on your emotions no matter who is on the other side of that door," she demanded. "I refuse to sleep alone on our first night at sea…or any other for that matter."

Matthew chuckled, too, for a moment before following his wife's directive, taking in a long deep breath and exhaling it before smiling at Mary and heading for the door.

Fortunately, he did not find Lord Gillingham standing in the open doorway. Instead, the long-awaited stewardess dressed in standard maid's attire stood before him with a broom, shovel and an apology for taking so long to arrive.

"I'm sorry for the delay Mr. Crawley. The first day at sea can be quite hectic, as you likely have discovered yourself," she said with an Irish brogue and a warm smile.

Matthew returned it, finding the woman standing before him bore a close resemblance in both her attire and physical appearance to one of the maids that had worked at Downton many years earlier.

If memory served, and he was grateful that it did, she left service right about the time the war broke out to become a secretary. Mr. Carson had been utterly confounded as he could not fathom why anyone fortunate enough to work for the Earl of Grantham would seek employment elsewhere.

The servant's name did not immediately pop into his head, but after a few moments, he blurted out, "Gwen," confusing the stewardess, who apparently surmised he was referring to her.

"No, Sir," she corrected him. "My name is Bridget…Bridget McInerney, I have been assigned to your suite and will be working hand in hand with Mr. John Walsh, your steward. He should be arriving any moment to assist with your unpacking and provide you with a layout of the ship as well as other information pertaining to the Olympic that will assist you during your voyage."

Matthew apologized to the White Star employee for the miscommunication, explaining that he had not been referring to her as Gwen, but instead thinking out loud as she reminded him of someone that bore that name. Then he ushered her into the room and properly introduced her to Mary.

Taking note of the broom and shovel in the woman's hands, she questioned if Mrs. McInerney had come to unpack or to clean, adding that the rooms appeared spotless.

"Both, Lady Mary," the stewardess replied. "I'll begin unpacking your baggage as soon as I sweep up the broken glass in the cabin adjoining yours."

"Broken glass?" Matthew queried.

She nodded "Yes, Sir. Truth be told, that is why it took me so long to get here. I was on my way to your suite to unpack when my supervisor stopped me in my tracks and directed me to get a broom and shovel as he received a call from the woman that occupies the adjoining cabin notifying him that a vase had been knocked over and it shattered into pieces."

Matthew and Mary veered their eyes from the stewardess to each other and cried out in unison, "Victoria!"

The employee shook her head back and forth, "No…I believe the woman who reported the breakage stated her name was Anna…a Mrs. Anna Bates. Is that not your servant's name?"

Appearing exasperated, Matthew opened his mouth to reply but then closed it quickly. He then turned from the stewardess to his wife, and sighed, "Darling, would be so kind as to set things straight here. I think it best I that retire to our bedroom to lie down a bit."

XX

When Mary entered the room, she found Matthew resting comfortably on their four-post bed with his legs outstretched and back propped up against its mahogany headboard, buffered by two fluffy white pillows as he perused the layout of the Olympic.

"Please tell me the vase wasn't an imported antique that will wind up costing us as much as this trip," he called out as his wife closed the door behind her."

Mary reached the bed quickly, shed her high-heeled shoes and inched her bottom into the vacant spot on his left, mirroring his position.

Taking in the lovely jacquard wall covering, the Queen Anne pattern held her eye for a moment, before she replied, "Relax, darling. I have been assured that although the vase resembled an Emile Galle, it was a knockoff, mass produced and quite inexpensive. Apparently, the owners of the White Star line were pragmatic when it came to decorating rooms that children would inhabit, knowing mishaps would occur no matter their lineage."

Matthew passed her one of the pillows behind him and chuckled, "Some more than others." Then upon further reflecting on the matter, he concluded, "In fact, it would not surprise me to learn that the children traveling first class are responsible for the majority of broken bric-a-brac on board the ship as they know their parents will have no issue in paying for their damages. Generally speaking, I have found that those born to the aristocracy as well as the nouveau riche haven't an inkling of what anything costs…nor do they care."

"I know you are not referring to Victoria when you say that," Mary replied. "She does care… very much, in fact, when she breaks something. Our daughter is just…just a bit…well somewhat…"

"Clumsy," Matthew suggested.

She frowned and shook her head in disagreement before launching into what she believed was at the root of their daughter's problem.

"I don't think it is that simple, darling," she began. "Although it is true Victoria is not inherently graceful, she is quite agile. If not, she wouldn't be able to ride Ruby as well as she does."

She paused then for a few moments to gather her thoughts before providing Matthew with a theory she had formulated.

"I think the reason she is so uncoordinated may have more to do with how quickly she processes her thoughts than her actions. When she is racing down the steps, for example, I don't think she is cognizant of how fast she is moving. I believe her focus is elsewhere, her mind miles away…perhaps in a meadow playing with Horus or eating ice cream with Sybbie. Does that make any sense to you?"

"It does, actually," Matthew replied, placing the printed layout of the ship down. "You are saying that her problem lies in her focusing on what she will be doing later instead of what she is presently doing."

Mary smiled, "Exactly."

"Well, since she is a very bright girl," Matthew continued. "I think if we share this hypothesis with her, she will be able to see the truth in it and make a concerted effort to change," Matthew offered, clearly pleased to have found a possible solution to an ongoing dilemma.

She nodded and smiled, "It could be a breakthrough for her." Then after a short pause, she added, "However, her racing thoughts were not the reason she knocked over the vase; I mean Victoria wasn't preoccupied thinking of something else when she broke it. She was totally focused on what she was doing."

Matthew shifted his position on the bed, turning his body sideways and propping his head on his elbow, the expression on his face turning quizzical.

Taking note of it, Mary went on to explain that Victoria had knocked into the vase when she attempted to lift a piece of Anna's luggage that nearly weighed as much as she did and fell over backwards.

"The sweet child was attempting to help her," Mary said with pride, her eyes glistening as she added, "Anna told me that Victoria reminds her of Sybil in many ways and I agree with her."

He did, too, and said as much before remarking that it appeared the former maid and their daughter were bonding quickly.

Mary smiled and replied, "They are and I'm glad of it. Anna had hoped to have a daughter one day but gave up trying after her last miscarriage. It was devastating as it came late in her pregnancy…late enough for her to learn that the baby had been a girl and to mourn her by the name that she and Mr. Bates had chosen, which ironically was Hope."

Matthew sighed, "I can imagine how heartbreaking it must have been for both of them."

"It was," she replied. I think even if Dr. Ryder had approved another attempt, the Bates could not emotionally handle it. If it had been me, I certainly couldn't." She paused for a moment and shook her head, "I wonder sometimes why someone as kind and self-sacrificing as Anna has been beset with so much tragedy in her life. When I think of all she has done for me over the years, I wish there was something I could do to ensure clear sailing ahead for her. If anyone is deserving of happiness, she is."

"I'm sure she is grateful for all you have done, darling," Matthew said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"It wasn't much…not really," she said in a whisper.

Matthew raised himself up until they were eye level and countered, "I couldn't disagree with you more, Mary. From what I've seen, you've done a great deal."

Then the solicitor proceeded to make his case.

"You supported her plan to marry Mr. Bates while your mother lay in her bed battling for her life and then provided the newlyweds with a bedroom reserved for Downton's guests so that they could spend their first night together in comfort and splendor."

Mary nodded, "Yes, but…"

He shook his head to cut her off and continued, "You stood by Anna's side when Bates was on trial for the murder of his first wife…and in her darkest hour, when it appeared he would go to the gallows, you readily agreed to take her with you to America so that she would not have to cut all her ties to Downton and could grieve in peace Then when she confided in you that she had been attacked by Mr. Green, Gillingham's valet, you used your influence with him to have the man fired so that Anna would never have to see him again... and when both she and Mr. Bates were alternately arrested for Green's murder, you did all you could to prove their innocence, even when you weren't absolutely certain that Bates was not guilty of the crime."

Mary bit her lip and lowered her eyes as her husband continued to catalogue what she could not deny were good deeds on her part, selfless acts that she had not ever given much thought to before now.

Placing his hand under her chin, Matthew nudged her head up and said softly, "Darling, if not for your bringing her to see Dr. Ryder, JR may never have been born…and in our bed to boot."

Mary chuckled, "Granny was aghast when she heard of it…even after I told her I had the mattress changed."

He laughed, too, remembering the look on Violet's face when she discovered that their bedroom had been turned into a maternity ward for one of the servants, even though she was fond of Anna.

"It made me happy to do those things as she was not just my lady's maid, Matthew. Anna was and is a dear friend."

"I know how much you appreciate her, Mary, and she deserves that appreciation. However, I wish that you could see that you do, too. Your actions do you credit."

She blushed then and gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she replied, "I knew there was another reason why I married you…I mean beside your being devilishly handsome, witty and having excellent prospects."

Matthew cocked his head and implored her to elaborate.

She did, the tone of her voice solemn as she declared, "You always see the best in me, even when I'm at my worst…and then you somehow manage to make me see it, too."

He bent his head and placed a quick peck on Mary's lips before he asked, "How many times must I tell you that my Mary is the true Mary before you believe it?"

Running her hand through his hair as she had countless times since she fell in love with him, Mary smiled, "I do believe it, my darling…but don't ever stop telling me."

"Never," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. "You have my word."

Then his stomach let out a loud growl and they both burst into laughter.

XX

Since they had missed the 1:00 o'clock seating for luncheon in the first-class dining saloon and the next wasn't until 2:30, Matthew suggested they explore their other options. Toward that end, they sat at the table in the sitting room and he divvied up the material that the steward had dropped off between himself, Mary and Anna Then the three of them set to work to find an alternative eatery that would suit them.

"The Ala Carte Restaurant is located on this deck and quite close to our suite," Mary announced. Then reading further down the page, she proclaimed, "Apparently it is Charlie Chaplin's favorite place to eat."

"Well, I don't see how that can be topped," Anna jested, playfully poking Victoria in the side, which led to her erupting in giggles.

"Or we can eat at the Veranda Café, which is one deck up," Matthew offered as a possibility. Then he lifted his head from the broadsheet he was reading and turning to George, said, "This is the one with the palm trees, George. It overlooks the Promenade Deck and has walled trellises with climbing plants."

"I'm not so sure about that one," Mary interjected. "It sounds more like a conservatory than a restaurant."

"It sounds like a jungle to me, Mother," Victoria exclaimed. "I think George and JR would find that a perfect place to eat."

The boys nodded in unison and Matthew offered to take them and whoever else cared to venture into the greenery on another day.

"There is another café on this deck, as well," Anna said. "The Café Parisiene…I believe that is where you will find those French waiters you told us about, George."

"No doubt, but French waiters or not, seeing frog's legs and snails served on a plate would ruin my appetite."

JR grimaced, "Mine, too."

"Eww…," Victoria chimed in.

Taking note of the expressions on the children's faces, Matthew chuckled before relaying, "There is also a Grand Restaurant, which is described here as a spacious venue that includes a band stand and _cuisine and service that is considered some of the finest on the Atlantic…_ What do you think Mary? Anna?"

Both women shrugged their shoulders, making it clear they were as undecided as he was as to where they should go.

A long moment of silence ensued until Victoria broke it by waving a sheet of paper in the air and exclaiming, "Look, Father. This is a menu of different foods that you can have sent to your room. I think I would quite like the roast beef and mashed potatoes…and custard pudding is one of my favorite desserts. Is there any reason we can't eat right here?"

Matthew folded the broadsheet in his hand and looked once more to Mary and Anna. Finding the two were nodding their heads and smiling, he turned to Victoria and replied, "No, there isn't, sweetheart. No reason at all."

XX

The food that was delivered to their suite was scrumptious and they all ate heartily, enjoying both their meal and the comfort of dining with family and friends.

One by one the Crawleys and Smiths pushed their empty plates into the center of the table as Victoria finished off her dessert. While the others looked on, she scraped the last bit of custard from the bone china and dropped her spoon into the center of the dish with a clank.

"Mmm…," Victoria said, licking her lips. That was delicious."

She then proceeded to eye the table in search of her napkin and having no luck, ducked her head under it to see if it had fallen on the floor.

Matthew tapped her on the shoulder and once she surfaced, waved the white square in front of her face.

"Is this what you are looking for, sweetheart?"

She flashed him a sweet smile before taking the napkin from his hand and wiping her mouth clean. Then she exclaimed, "I knew it could not have simply vanished…unless, of course, it was part of some magic trick like the one we saw at the County Fair last year."

That led to her brother and JR launching into a conversation about said magic show, each boy touching upon his favorite tricks and then George sharing his theories as to how they were accomplished.

Impressed as he was with his son's deductions, Matthew cut him short, suggesting that he might continue his observations up on deck so that they all could get some fresh air and become better acquainted with the ship.

George, as well as everyone else seated at the table, readily agreed to his proposal and headed off to retrieve whatever they wanted to bring along with them, and five minutes later, they stood in a semi-circle at the base of the Grand Staircase with sunglasses, hats and wide smiles on their faces.

Though the stairs that led to A-Deck were wide enough for them to take side by side, Matthew and Mary took the lead, followed by the children with Anna bringing up the rear.

Standing before a bronze cherub holding an electric torch with Mary on his arm, Matthew looked over his shoulder and exclaimed, "Onward and upward."

"Onward and upward," the children ehcoed.

Then they began their ascent.

XX

One flight up, the exquisitely carved clock located in an alcove on the central landing made them stop in their tracks. The unique timepiece featured two allegorical figures known as Honour and Glory Crowning Time on either side of it, each depicted as angels with Glory wafting a palm frond over Honour's head, while she inscribed on a tablet in her hand.

Matthew gazed at the magnificent carving a moment and vowed to return to it when time permitted to examine it more closely as he wondered if the details were just pleasant carvings or if the entire panel was symbolic.

 _What is it about time that should be honored and glorified?_ he asked himself, planting a seed in his head as he led Mary down the vestibule that led to the A-Deck promenade.

Pushing the double doors open, he was momentarily blinded by the bright light that shone into his eyes and quickly donned his sunglasses, as did Mary. With the sun came a rush of sea air as well as a multitude of sounds: heels clanking on the deck, bits and pieces of conversations taking place at the railing and in lounge chairs nearby and the high-pitched sound of children laughing.

Then his eyes feasted on the great Atlantic, the ocean now calm as bath water and blue as a sapphire sparkling in the sun. It stretched out as far as the eye could see until it met the distant horizon, creating an illusion that it ended there. He knew better, of course. Yet fixing his eyes on it, he could understand why there was a time that sailors feared their ship would fall over the precipice.

He found himself in a trance, unable to take his eyes from Poseidon's realm until the sound of Victoria's voice brought him out of his stupor.

"Oh, my," she gushed for the second time that day.

"Oh, my, indeed," Matthew said, breaking with Mary for a second to pull Victoria up into his arms at the railing.

They were joined quickly by Anna and the boys, who stood transfixed by their first encounter with the wide, open sea.

 _When beholding the tranquil beauty and brilliancy of the ocean's skin, one forgets the tiger heart that pants beneath it_ , Matthew said, quoting one of Herman Melville's lines from "Moby Dick"

Hearing his comment, a young couple who stood holding hands a few feet away turned toward him. The man, a tall, strapping chap with wheat colored hair and green eyes introduced himself as Andrew Peele and the petite brunette at his side as his wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Peele.

Once all introductions complete, Mr. Peele shared that he and his wife had been at the rail for the better part of an hour and still were reluctant to return to their cabin.

He fixed his gaze on Matthew then and flashing him a cheeky grin, added, "I think you will understand my meaning when I say that considering we are on our honeymoon, I am surprised that is the case."

"Yes, I do understand…," Matthew smiled. "…both your meaning and why you have found it difficult to leave."

Then both he, his wife and Anna wished the Peeles a long and happy life together, with Mary quipping that she hoped they would have _smooth sailing_ for the rest of their honeymoon.

Still perched in her father's arms, Victoria fixed her eyes on Mary and asked, "What is a honeymoon, Mother?"

Taken aback by her daughter's question, Mary turned to Matthew for assistance. but one look at the expression on his face told her that she was on her own in formulating an answer.

After narrowing her eyes in his direction, she replied as nonchalantly as if she had been asked about the weather that a honeymoon was a period of time that a man and woman shared after their wedding to get to know one another better.

Matthew patted his wife on the back and said softly, "Well done," while Victoria pondered the answer her mother had provided.

Then it was his turn in the hot seat.

"Father, I heard Lady Gillingham say that she and her husband were on a second honeymoon. Does that mean she and Lord Gillingham didn't get to know each other well enough on their first one?"

He blinked, then turned to Mary and found her covering her mouth with her hand in order to stifle her laughter. It was clear to him that she would be no help and he wasn't surprised since he had left her hanging in the wind a few moments earlier.

Just then Anna and hope popped into his head. If she had heard Victoria's question over the boy's chatter about creatures that dwelled in the deep, perhaps she might share her thoughts on the matter, if asked.

But, no.

Anna ignored the sound of him clearing his throat to get her attention, her eyes remaining fixed on the horizon.

Accepting he was on his own, he racked his brain and came up with a response that he felt would be appropriate for someone his daughter's age.

"A man and woman do not take anyone along with them on their honeymoon, sweetheart. They spend that special time alone. Therefore, Lord and Lady Gillingham are the only ones who can answer that question…and it is one no one should ask them as it is entirely their affair. "Then he added, "However, they must believe that getting to know one another better on this trip will benefit their marriage. Otherwise, they wouldn't have gone to such great expense to take it."

Victoria cocked her head to the side as she processed her father's words and then after a long moment said, with a note of concern in her tiny voice, "Is that the reason we are on this trip? Do you and Mother need it to get to know one another better?"

He let out a long sigh and once more turned to Mary for help; this time, however, she took pity on him and took up the mantle.

"Your father and I don't need another honeymoon in order to get to know one another better. We set aside special time at Downton in order to do that," she said, giving her husband a subtle wink.

That made Victoria smile.

At that, Anna, with a knowing grin on her face, joined them and offered to take the children to the gymnasium.

Mary shook her head, "Thank you for the offer, but Matthew and I are looking forward to seeing it ourselves."

"Yes, let's all get going" he said.

Then, reluctant to leave or not, the Crawleys, Smiths and Peeles left the railing, the small group venturing one flight up to the Boat-Deck to get a tour of the gymnasium and the honeymooners to D-Deck and their cabin to get to know one another better.

XX

Having read that Boat-Deck housed most of the public rooms, it was not surprising to Matthew that it was filled with activity, and as they made their way to the gymnasium, they passed a lively game of shuffleboard and two women playing deck tennis.

Pausing to take in the games, he shared that this deck also housed the squash court, where a professional was on hand in the event a player wanted a lesson or two before agreeing to a match.

There were passengers strolling along the wide deck, too, enjoying the fine weather and sea air as they passed the lovely paned glass windows that lined the promenade, offering a glimpse into the interior of the ship.

Reaching their destination, they were warmly greeted by the steward who would walk them around the facility and explain how the apparatus worked.

The children sped across the white and black diamond floor tiles toward the stationary bicycles where two boys were pedaling furiously in a race, the virtual distance they traveled registered by an arrow on a large wheel that stood before them. A handful of boys and girls stood in a semi-circle around the racers, bouncing in place as they rooted for their favorite, urging them to go faster.

"Those children will no doubt fall asleep early tonight," Anna said, turning to Mary. "Perhaps we can get ours to join in the fun."

She nodded and smiled, "A tempting thought, but I fear once Victoria gets on one of those bicycles, we will have the devil of a time getting her off."

"I would imagine they give each child an allotted amount of time, darling. Otherwise, they would not be able to accommodate them all."

Both she and Anna agreed that made sense before the former lady's maid set off to view the race while Mary followed the steward to the machine that emulated horseback riding. A woman wearing a head cap was sitting sideways atop a leather saddle, her hands clenched around the horn as the contraption bounced up and down at a quick pace

"A fast trot? she said, eyeing the speed and cadence of the machine.

The steward nodded, "As close as possible. However, if you are an experienced rider…"

Mary didn't hear the rest of his sentence as the sound of her daughter cheering on George reached her ears and she turned to her husband.

"Matthew, your vision is better than mine. Can you see if George is competing against JR?"

He took a few steps forward and fixed his gaze on an opening in the crowd to determine who their son's competition was. Finding that the boy on the bicycle next to George was a stranger, he informed Mary and offered her his arm.

The two of them walked slowly beside the steward, Mr. Abercrombie, in the direction of the children's squeals, passing rowing machines, parallel bars, metal weights, Indian clubs, punch bags and medicine balls on their way.

Although Matthew acknowledged each of the steward's descriptions, his attention never veered from the race as he heard his daughter's voice rising to a higher pitch.

"Don't stop, George," she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Keep pedaling. You can win this."

Now close enough to see that the outcome was imminent, Matthew held his breath as he waited to hear it.

A loud chorus of laughter and moans signaled the race was over, the uproar drowning out Mr. Abecrombie.

Mary squeezed his hand, "The tour is over. I'm sure you want to thank the steward."

Matthew apologized, "Of course, please forgive me. I was distracted by the hubbub. Thank you very much for your time."

At that moment, Anna and JR approached them with wide grins on their faces.

Barely able to contain his glee, the boy exclaimed, "George won, Mr. Crawley. He beat out that older chap by a hair."

Suddenly, Matthew felt overcome with emotion, which surprised him considering it was just a bicycle race his son had won.

Then he heard Doctor Willilam Halse Rivers' voice ring out in his head, " _It is more than that. It goes to strength of character and George has that in spades. You have good reason to feel the way you do."_

Matthew concurred with the physician who once had been his only hope in regaining his memory and felt the corners of his mouth inch up while his chest swelled with pride.

"I feel the same way, darling," Mary said, edging closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

He spotted George bent over with his hands on his knees breathing heavily, his face and hair drenched with perspiration. Still, his son reached out his hand to the boy he had just thrashed and praised his effort, reminding him of how close the race had been.

It goes to _strength of character and George has that in spades,_ echoed once more in his mind and his smile widened.

Catching his son's attention, Matthew tipped his hat to him, and as George nodded his head in acknowledgement, the smile on his face crept upward until it reached his eyes and settled there.

XX

The combination of an early rising combined with the exercise and sea air left all but Victoria exhausted by the time they reached their suite and the thought of sitting through a fourteen-course meal was less than desirable.

They decided, therefore, to dine at the Ala Cart restaurant, the Hollywood movie star's favorite, as it would enable them to have a good meal and make an early night of it.

George yawned and excused himself before he and JR headed off to their bedroom in order to change their clothes for dinner while Victoria, who had already donned a new outfit, accepted Anna's kind offer to braid her hair and followed her to her cabin.

Reaching his and Mary's room, Matthew flopped down on the bed and exclaimed, "I'm spent." Then folding his harms over his chest, he chuckled, "I actually would welcome having Mr. Molesley help me dress right now. "

Mary laughed as she rolled down her remaining stocking, "Well, those are words I never though I would hear come out of your mouth."

Barefoot, she rose from her seat at the vanity and wiggled out of her skirt as she urged him to get up and shower before he fell asleep.

Knowing he would do just that, he forced himself into the upright position and stretched his arms over his head toward the coffered ceiling, letting out a long moan. Then he swung his legs off the bed and joined Mary, planting a quick peck on her lips before heading off to what he hoped would be a recuperative shower.

XX

Charlie Chaplin had not exaggerated in his praise for the restaurant. The moment Matthew entered it, the variety of aromas wafting in the air made his mouth water while his eyes feasted on the glamorous ambiance.

Decorated in the Louis XIV style, it had floor to ceiling light walnut paneling with specially mounted ornaments and moldings that gave it a regal look. Candle-style lamps hung in the center of each of the panels and large bay windows gave the room a spacious feel.

Flanked by Anna on his left and Mary, his right with the children in a neat row in front of him, his eyes fell on an empty table near one of the windows with a white card in the center that read _Reserved_ and hoped that would be where they were headed.

"Those lamb chops smell heavenly," Anna said, as a waiter placed a steaming plate with the mutton, a baked potato and what appeared to be glazed carrots before a woman with grey hair piled high on her head.

Matthew took a whiff of the meat and smiled, "I will have no need of a menu as my choice for dinner has just been sealed."

"As has mine," Mary chimed in. "It is roast chicken for me."

Victoria licked her lips and craned her neck back until she was looking up at her mother, "The food won't be served once we are seated as it is at Downton, though, will it"?

Looking down into her daughter's big blue eyes, Mary replied, "No, it won't, sweetheart, though I'm sure you would like it to be as you are no doubt are as hungry as I am." Then seeing Victoria frown, she bent her head down and said softly, "But good things come to those who wait, and if you are on your best behavior while you do, you may have your favorite ice cream with any topping you like for dessert."

That did the trick.

Rising to her full height, Mary turned to Matthew and whispered, "Bribery seemed my best course of action."

He grinned mischievously, "And what will I get if I am on my best behavior while I wait for my mutton?"

Mirroring his smile, Mary whispered in his ear, "You will get to know me better once we are alone."

His wife's response to his question did more to invigorate him that his shower and his face became flushed as he scrambled for a witty retort. However, his thoughts were interrupted by a tall man with a deep voice who came to greet the party of six and escort them to the coveted table near the window.

XX

Dinner had been a delightful experience thanks to the superb food, prompt service, and memories of Downton in days gone by provided by Mary and Anna, who shared some of their fondest moments there.

Matthew was not surprised that most of the remembrances they touched upon took place before the war that would forever change life as they knew it. Yet though over two decades had passed, the two women had no difficulty recalling even minor details and painted vivid scenes for their rapt audience.

The servants' hall was filled with laughter and applause while William played a lively tune on the piano and Thomas taught Daisy a silly dance that entailed his mimicking a large bear hunting its prey. Then Mrs. Patmore came upon the scene, putting an end to the festivities and directing the kitchen maid to get some rest.

The next took place in the drawing room as Robert gaped at his youngest daughter's new outfit, azure blue harem pants and a matching headband, while the rest of the Crawleys looked at her with raised eyebrows.

He chuckled but then grew solemn as he remembered that the headstrong Lady Sybil and sweet William were lost to those who loved them forever.

Two hours later, as he lay in his bed with his eyes closed, he was reminded once more of the soldier who bravely gave his life to save him and the nurse who gave her all to heal those in her charge.

Lost in his thoughts and pain, Matthew didn't realize that Mary had entered the room or that he was groaning until he heard her offer to massage his back.

Opening his eyes, he found her standing beside the bed, looking like a Greek goddess in a cream-colored negligee with black piping and a plunging neckline.

"I'm sorry, darling," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Nonsense," she countered, placing her hands on his shoulders and guiding him onto his stomach. "You have no reason to apologize." Then, as she began kneading the muscles that surrounded his bruised spine, she said in a saucy tone, "Besides…just think of how much better our getting to know one another will be after we've been denied the opportunity tonight. You know what they say about absence."

He turned his head to the side and getting a bird's eye view of her décolletage as she bent over his body, he groaned again, but for an entirely different reason.

XX

It rained their second day at sea, which was no surprise to Matthew as he had been alerted that it would by a very reliable source.

"You are a modern-day Nostradamus when it comes to predicting the weather, darling," Mary declared as the sound of rain pelted the 50-foot private deck that lay outside their bedroom window.

"A lot of good it does me," he countered as he pondered if he should get out of bed.

Rest had always proved the best remedy when his back ached - that and massage. Thanks to his wife's ministrations, his discomfort had lessened a good deal and he didn't want her good work to go for naught. Then there was the possibility of his feeling seasick once he rose as the ocean was no longer calm.

As if she could read his mind, Mary suggested he make use of the Turkish Baths on F-Deck, stating the hot sauna, salt water bath and professional massage would likely do wonders for his back.

"It may also prevent you from becoming seasick, Matthew, since the baths are housed on a lower deck. I read that when the sea becomes rough, you don't feel the pitch and roll of the ship as much there."

Finding his wife's suggestion to be a good alternative to staring at the ceiling the rest of the morning, he gingerly sat up and using the bedpost for support, rose to his feet.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Mary. I've been looking forward to having some free time to finish reading Agatha Christie's latest novel. Perhaps I'll learn who committed the murder on the Orient Express while I'm lounging in comfort," he said and smiled.

Mary returned it, and laying her hairbrush down on the vanity, she added, "I also think it would be a good idea for me to cancel our plans with Tony and Mabel this evening since you are indisposed. They likely will be disappointed, but I'm sure under the circumstances, they will understand why we can't have dinner with them and Captain Binks."

"Please, don't, darling," Matthew implored her as he pulled his robe on. "Tony will assume the only reason we aren't going is because of the embarrassing incident that took place yesterday and it will stick in his head, making his getting a glimpse of your knickers much more important than it was."

Her temper flared and she rolled her eyes in his direction before exclaiming that she could care less what Lord Gillingham thought about their canceling their dinner plans or her knickers.

He padded slowly up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, then said calmly, "I know you don't, but I do, and I'm asking you to at least hold off on making that call until I return from the Turkish baths. If I'm still not feeling better, I'll call the Foyles myself and cancel. However, if I do, I would like to put this dinner behind us."

She stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment and then reached behind her and placed her right hand over his left before nodding her head in agreement.

XX

By the time Matthew returned to the suite, he was happy to find that the rain had subsided considerably. He was also pleased to report to Mary and Anna, who he found having tea in the sitting room, that his pain had diminished as well.

"I can't recall a time when I've felt more relaxed," he exclaimed. Then, waving "Murder on the Orient Express" over his head, he added, "And I was able to get through five more chapters while I lay on a hammock of sorts in the cooling room. I dare say Agatha Christie has outdone herself. This is her finest work yet."

"I'm glad you are feeling better, Matthew… and that you've returned to me with your appearance unchanged," she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes."

At that, Anna stifled her laugh, and her behavior confused him as much as Mary's comment.

"Whatever do you mean?" he said, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

Mary replied that the stewardess had informed Anna that many passengers frequented the Turkish Baths in order to darken the shade of their skin.

"Did your attendant offer you an Electric bath?" Anna asked.

Matthew didn't think he had and said as much, adding that he would not have accepted the offer had it been made.

"What on earth will they think of next?" he mused out loud. "I can only imagine how an artificial tanning of one's skin is accomplished. It astounds me what some people will do for vanity's sake."

His wife and Anna nodded their heads in agreement before commiserating about the discomfort women had endured for years when obliged to wear corsets in order to present an hour glass figure to the public.

Matthew could relate to the pain and breathless feeling they were describing as he experienced it first hand when his broken ribs were wrapped in the London Hospital after his car accident. However, he kept that information to himself while his wife and former maid laughed over the absurdity of the constrictive contraption, not wanting to dampen their spirits.

Her laugh morphing into a lovely smile, Mary asked, "Would you like to join us, Matthew? As you can see, there is an extra cup and saucer here for you."

"Thank you for thinking of me, darling, but I already have had two cups." Then turning toward the door that led to the bedrooms, he said, "I'm actually just passing through on my way to see what the children are up to."

At that, he heard Victoria squeal through the open doorway, "You've won with the red pawns three times already, George. I want to swap."

Utterly confused by his daughter's outburst, he turned to Mary and Anna for an explanation of what was transpiring.

" _Sorry_ ," they responded in unison.

Thinking he was misunderstood, he clarified, "I was wondering if either of you know what Victoria is going on about".

Anna and Mary giggled like schoolgirls before his wife clarified that " _Sorry_ " was the name of the board game the children were playing.

He could not help but find the miscommunication amusing, as well, and laughed as he headed to his son's room to settle the red pawn controversy.

XX

"Matthew, I'm never going to get this bow tie straight if you don't stop fidgeting," Mary said with a note of exasperation in her voice.

Hearing it, he forced himself to stand still long enough for her to work her magic.

"There…that's better," Mary said, pinching the sides of the bow for good measure. Then she took a step back and eyed him from head to toe.

He waited until he was certain she was done with her inspection before asking, "Well…Do I pass muster, darling?"

Mary smiled broadly at him before replying, "With flying colors. No man that I know holds a candle to you in tails, Matthew. I will be the envy of every woman in the dining hall."

The blood rushed to his face, settling on his cheeks as he basked in his wife's praise, and though he thought it exaggerated, he could not deny that there were women besides Mary that found him attractive. A few even had the audacity to proposition him when they were sure she was out of hearing range. Yet, although he was flattered by the attention, he never sought it and quickly forgot it. The only woman's opinion that mattered to him was Mary's.

"That is a very sweet thing to say, darling, and I'm glad to hear you feel that way. However, when we walk into the dining hall, no one will take notice of me as you look stunning."

As the words flowed off his tongue, the reason for his restlessness became apparent. He anticipated Lord Gillinham's eyes would remain fixed on his wife during dinner and did not know how he would react to his ogling Mary as he had done the day before.

 _Perhaps I'm worrying needlessly,_ he told himself in an effort to calm his anxiety _._ _After all, his wife will be sitting beside him. Surely Tony wouldn't be foolish enough to show his feelings for Mary with Mabel a few feet away._

That bit of logic soothed his nerves for a few seconds until he examined his wife's appearance as closely as she had done his. The dress she wore was custom made expressly for her by Norman Hartnell, the same designer who created Catherine's wedding gown, and it fit her like a glove.

Thin rounded folds of fabric flowed in rows over her breasts creating a flattering cowl neckline while the remaining material hugged her curves. The style showcased her fine figure and revealed just enough bare skin to make a man want to see more.

The color of the dress complimented her, too, a dark teal that offset her fair skin and dark hair, which Anna had styled to perfection, pulling her long locks back and pinning them into a chignon.

As Mary turned to retrieve her diamond earrings and matching choker from the vanity, his eyes focused on her shapely bottom and he had a vision of Tony Foyle drooling like a baby.

XX

The sound of a bugler playing "Roast beef of Old England", the RMS Olympic's call to dinner, put an end to Matthew's anxious musings and after draping Mary's satin wrap over her shoulders, he and she bid Anna and the children _goodnight_ and headed off to the dining saloon.

Though it was one of the largest rooms on the ship, they had no difficulty in locating the captain's table as Mabel had informed Mary that it was in one of the small recessed bays to the right of the entrance.

Designed to afford the Captain and his guests privacy, the exquisitely decorated alcove gave the passengers the illusion that they were eating in a fine hotel on land instead of a ship in the middle of the ocean.

As he and Mary approached the table, the men quickly rose from their seats and as he expected, their eyes went first to Mary. There were only two others beside Tony, one with grey hair and a ruddy complexion wearing a uniform very similar to those worn in the Royal Navy, who quickly introduced himself as Captain Binks, and coincidentally, the passenger who had caught his attention the day before in the reception area that had sought direction from one of the stewards to the lifts.

"Mr. Crawley, it is my understanding that Lord and Lady Gillingham need no introduction," the Captain said, nodding his head in the Foyle's direction. "However, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Lord Hays and his lovely daughter, Lady Caroline," he smiled.

 _So, she is his daughter, not his wife_ , he concluded, as he extended his hand to the man that barely reached Tony Foyle's shoulders with a paunch that strained the buttons of his dinner jacket. Veering his eyes quickly from the bulge, it now became clear why he had opted to take the lift instead of the stairs.

As he shook Lord Hays' hand, he remembered his comment to his young companion and smiled as the gentleman had managed to find a way for his daughter to showcase her new gowns, after all. Taking a quick look at this one, however, he found it left a lot to be desired.

He inwardly sighed then as it was time to address the Foyles, though he graciously shook Tony's hand before bowing his head in Mabel's direction. She looked lovely in the black cocktail dress she wore, accentuated by a pearl necklace and bracelet. Unfortunately, he found her husband, too, appeared quite dapper in tails.

 _Is it my imagination, or is she staring at me_?" he asked himself as Lady Gillingham's gaze remained on his face a long moment, her eyes boring into his.

Mary cleared her throat, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mabel…Tony."

 _Apparently not my imagination, then,_ he told himself upon hearing the edge in his wife's voice that only he would be able to discern.

A few seconds later, Matthew found that Lady Gillingham was not the only woman at the table who was paying him attention as Lord Hays' daughter was batting her eyelashes in his direction during their introduction.

He soon discovered, however, that the young woman's adoration was not limited to him as her eyes veered from him to Tony and back as though she were following a ball in play during a game of tennis.

Lady Caroline's awkward attempt at flirtation continued after the first course of dinner had arrived, making him grateful that Tony had struck up a conversation with Captain Binks as it enabled him to focus his attention on them and politely ignore her.

By the time he had emptied his bowl of Consommé' Olga, Matthew had learned that the commander of the Olympic had apprenticed to sail at the age of 15 and had served forty-five years at sea, thirty-five of them in the service of the White Star line, which he would retire from at the end of the year.

"In that time, I've travelled over a million miles to all quarters of the globe, "Captain Binks said with pride as the table steward cleared away his empty bowl, a portion of which transpired during the Great War when I served as a lieutenant commander in the Royal Navy.

That tidbit of information piqued Tony's interest and he urged the captain to elaborate further, which he did without hesitation.

In 1915 he was an officer on the Humber-class monitor, one of three large gunboats that were employed in bombarding German batteries and positions under the command of Rear-Admiral Horace Hood. The ship played a part in the Gallipoli campaign when it was sent to the Dardanelles, the shallow draft monitor being able to get much closer inshore without danger of running aground than a cruiser.

"Crushing loss, that one," Tony spat, knowing how many casualties England suffered after eight months of fighting the Turks. Churchill was skewered for sponsoring the invasion."

He then went on to say that he had served on the Iron Duke, the flagship of the Grand Fleet during the Battle of Jutland a year later in the North Sea under the command of Admiral John Jellico. At that time, Fourteen British and eleven German ships sank and there were nearly 10,000 casualties. Yet though the British had lost more ships and twice as many sailors as the Germans, they had succeeded in containing the German fleet.

"A victory, no matter how the press covered it," Captain Binks exclaimed. "The Germans were not only denied access to England but from that point on, they avoided fleet-to-fleet contact, knowing they had a fight on their hands that they could lose."

Tony nodded in agreement and then raised his glass in a toast to all those who had fought so valiantly for king and country, and before bringing the goblet to his lips, he tipped his head to Matthew and added on land and sea.

 _Mary must have told him that I served in the infantry; Either her or Robert._

He had expected Lord Gillingham would grate on his nerves during dinner. Yet, as he drained the remainder of wine in his glass, he was surprised to find that he felt a sense of camaraderie with the man. In fact, for the first time since he spotted him in the crowd at the train station, he didn't look at Tony Foyle as a thorn in his side.

At that moment, he was a brother in arms, a man who had risked his life as he had to set the world straight when madness reigned.

No sooner had the group set down their wine glasses than they were refilled by a member of the wait-staff who had been standing nearby, a young man wearing thick eyeglasses, who leaped out of the way as the poached salmon with Mousseline sauce arrived, nearly spilling some of the bottle on Lady Caroline's new gown and causing her to wince with alarm.

Raising a forkful of perfectly seasoned salmon to his mouth, Matthew took notice that Mabel and Mary were getting along well, the two women happily engaged in discussing the fine attributes of Golden Miller, the thoroughbred who had won the Grand National a few month's earlier.

"I learned that his sire produced two Irish Grand National winners," Mabel offered as an additional tidbit of information. "That horse comes from good stock."

His wife wasn't aware of it and said, "You certainly have done your homework. Then she smiled, "I am assuming your research paid off nicely for you."

"Quite nicely," Lady Gillingham exclaimed before taking a sip from her near empty glass.

Lord Hays interjected that he had won a hefty sum by betting on Delaneige to come in second, the horse paying 100/7.

"Do you prefer a long-shot to a sure bet, Mr. Crawley?" reached his ears the moment he placed his fork down.

"I have never given it much thought, Lady Caroline, as I place my trust in my wife's instincts and follow her direction," he replied. Then he added, "However, It has been my experience that in gambling as in life, there is no such thing as a _sure bet_."

She smiled seductively at him before she countered, "I wouldn't say that. It has been my experience that if you look closely enough, you may find a _sure bet_ is sitting right before your eyes."

He suddenly felt as though his tie was too tight, and hearing Captain Binks clearing his throat, he imagined he felt the same way. However, her comment went unnoticed by her father, who was taking a hefty bite out of his buttered roll.

As she had done all evening, Lady Caroline then fixed her gaze on Tony and she purred, "What about you, Lord Gillingham? Do you share in your wife's appetite for gambling or do you seek your rush of adrenaline elsewhere?"

In the middle of swallowing a gulp of water when he heard her question, Tony began to cough violently and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin.

Captain Binks leapt from his seat, erring on the side of caution should his guest have a piece of food lodged in his throat, and reaching the lord, he began hitting him on the back with considerable gusto.

Taking in the scene, Mary rolled her eyes while Mabel shot daggers at Lady Caroline across the table.

 _What next?_ Matthew asked himself. Then he raised his wine glass and drained it.

Tony waved the Captain off and pointed to the water glass, making it clear he had just swallowed the wrong way and the commander returned to his seat with a relieved expression on his face.

Apparently enjoying her ability to discompose the handsome lord, Lady Caroline's smile remained in place as she awaited her answer.

Once he was able to speak, Tony replied flatly that he and Lady Gillingham shared many common interests, including gambling on occasion.

Matthew knew it was coming and feared Mary would cut the ambitious flirt to shreds when it did, but when the woman turned her gaze back on him with her lashes fluttering like a butterfly, Mabel beat her to the punch.

"Is there something in your eye, Lady Caroline? I could not help but notice that you've been blinking excessively since we began dinner."

"I've noticed it, as well," Mary interjected. "Having had experience with such matters over the years, I'm sure Lady Gillingham and I can get to the root of your problem should you care to join us in a more private setting."

Appearing like a child who has been discovered with their hand in the cookie jar, Lady Caroline gulped and shook her head.

He felt the laughter rising in his throat and just managed to stifle it before it reached his lips. Then he took notice that Tony and Captain Binks were also doing their best to squelch their amusement.

A moment later, the three men's resolve to remain composed was tested as Lord Hays turned to his daughter and said, "Caroline, this isn't the first time that this issue with your eyes has come up. I think it is time we set an appointment with a physician to have them examined."

XX

The stream of hot water pelting his back felt wonderful and he lingered in the shower taking stock of the events that transpired that evening.

He began with the introductions as he recalled Mabel Foyle eyeing him as though he were on the menu and contemplated the reason why.

 _Did she want to make Tony jealous?_

 _Did she hold a grudge toward Mary since she was the reason Tony had once thrown her over?_

 _Did she drink to much wine and it went to her head?_

A moment later he sighed as he realized that his conjecture just led to more questions.

 _Why would Mabel want to make her husband jealous?_

 _Why would she have interceded with Lady Caroline on Mary's behalf if she still held a grudge?_

 _Why would her getting tipsy make him suddenly appear irresistible?_

Then there was the matter of his finding a common bond with Tony, one that did not include Mary. He had kept an eye on him throughout dinner, heartfelt toast or not, and noticed he had paid her little attention. In fact, the conversation between them had been brief and most included Mabel.

Although he still believed the lord carried a torch for Mary and would be pleased if it were extinguished, he had to admit that Tony was doing his utmost to squelch his ardor and afford his wife and him the respect they deserved.

 _That's really all I can ask of him_ , he concluded.

A vision of Lavinia Swire came to mind and once again he found common ground with Tony as he was reminded that we have no control over who we love.

Matthew made the decision then that although it would be more difficult than dismissing Mabel's behavior at dinner, he would give her husband the benefit of the doubt from that point on.

Grabbing a large, fluffy towel from the marble countertop, he put it to use, and by the time he ran it through his damp mop of hair, he had decided that his best course of action was to take a wait and see approach when it came to the Foyles. No doubt their motives would become clear by the time the ship reached New York.

His head now clear and dry, Matthew addressed a more pressing matter. He had found his wife's jealousy over Mabel and Lady Caroline arousing and looked forward to doing something about that.

Toward that end, he had pleaded with the officer that would be on watch that night to look the other way should a report reach his ears that the lighting on their private deck had gone out, explaining that he and his wife had planned on stargazing before they retired and his plan was to disable the lights for 20 minutes or so in order to get a better view.

Though he had balked at first due to safety concerns, once Matthew promised that he and Mary would stay close to their cabin door and not venture out on the deck, he relented.

"My wife and I are fond of stargazing, too," he said with a knowing wink.

The thought of making love to Mary outside of the confines of four walls and a locked door excited him to no end, and after tying the sash of his robe, he made his way to their bedroom with haste.

XX

He had the presence of mind to bring the towel he had used to dry himself with him as he knew the light bulbs would be hot to the touch and was in the midst of turning the second to last until it was extinguished when his wife popped her head out the door.

"What on earth are you doing," Mary said in a hushed tone, not wanting to bring attention to her husband's mischief. "Have you had too much to drink?"

Matthew smiled in her direction and assured her that he was quite sober before moving on to the last light.

"There…that should do it," he said triumphantly, taking note that now the only light that shone on the deck emanated from the bedroom window.

Then he placed the towel beside the door and beckoned Mary to join him.

"And I need you to close the bedroom light before you do," he whispered.

Hearing her huff, he added, "Please, darling."

They had less than a half hour to _star gaze_ before the lights had to be turned back on and Matthew didn't want to waste any time giving Mary a detailed explanation for his behavior. It would be much better if he could just show her what he was up to.

 _Hurry, Mary…Hurry.._ ran through his head as he waited for her to emerge from the bedroom, his arms folded across his chest and foot tapping on the wood planking with impatience, and he let out an audible sigh of relief when she appeared.

"Now, what is this all about?" she said, leaning back against the closed door.

"Look up and then come to me," he replied, giving her no further clue.

The night sky was magnificent, the constellations that had been hidden from them by the deck lights on full display under the watchful gaze of the moon.

"Oh, Matthew, it is absolutely beautiful."

He raised his eyes upward for a moment and marveled at the glorious sight above his head and then fixed his gaze on another standing before him. She was his Andromeda and he was her Perseus, if she so desired, or the sea monster in question; it didn't matter which; he had come to claim her.

"As are you my darling," he said before pulling her into his arms and unleashing his passion.

Mary responded in kind, her lips parting as he deepened their kiss and hands quickly untying the sash on his robe. He was naked beneath it, having planned their time well, and she gloried in it, roaming her hands over his body until he moaned with pleasure.

He lowered the straps of her negligee, exposing her full breasts to him. Then he fondled each of them before lowering his head and sucking on her pert nipples, made even more by the cool night breeze.

Time was of the essence and though he wanted to spend more of it exploring her body, that would have to come later. Pressing her against the door, he edged her legs apart, took hold of her hips and drove his point home.

XX

Matthew woke with a smile on his face that remained in place until Mary planted a _Good Morning_ kiss on his lips.

"I am happy to see you are awake, sleepy head," she teased. "George and JR are chomping at the bit to go to the pool with you as you promised them before we left for dinner last night. They've been here twice already."

"Is it that late?" he exclaimed, getting out of bed quickly and into his robe. "It isn't like me to oversleep. It must be the sea air," he smiled.

"That and all the exercise you've been getting," Mary replied cheekily.

"No doubt," he concurred with a wicked smile, and drew her toward him to give her what he considered a proper kiss to start the day.

After a long moment, Mary broke their embrace and turned him to face the door.

"Off with you, then," she said, giving him a playful whack on his bottom. "I'm sure the boys will be sending Victoria in any minute."

He had no doubt of it and made quick work of getting dressed. Then at Mary and Anna's insistence, he stopped long enough to have a cup of tea and a bite to eat in the sitting room, having slept through breakfast.

While savoring a glazed scone, he inquired what the two women had planned while he and the children were gone and learned they were off to the Writing Room.

Matthew smiled and said, "I'm sure Mr. Bates will be happy to hear from you Anna as will Robert and Cora welcome a letter from you, darling".

"I know it will set his mind at ease knowing we are all safe and sound," Mary replied. Then she added, "Although he may be a bit envious once he learns of the amenities we've been afforded."

Anna chuckled, "I am purposely leaving out any mention of the Turkish Baths in my letter so that Mr. Bates won't be."

At that moment, the three children, with Victoria in the lead, rushed into the room with pleading looks on their faces, prompting Matthew to pop the last bit of his glazed scone into his mouth and rise from his seat.

"I'm ready to go," he said, eliciting a wide grin on each child's face as he placed his napkin down on the table. "Now, go gather your swimsuits and we'll be off."

The two boys and Victoria raced from the room, each jockeying for the lead, which caused Mary and Anna to wince. Hearing no sounds of breakage coming from the adjoining room, they let out a collective sigh.

Then his wife turned to him with an apprehensive look on her face.

"Don't worry, darling. I will make sure there will be no running in the pool area."

Mary nodded as Victoria burst through the door waving her swimsuit in the air and hollering, "I'm ready, Father. Can we go now?"

Spotting the boys, he nodded his head. Then he gathered his own swim attire, gave Mary a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door with George, JR and Victoria following him in a straight line as though they were ducklings and he, their mother.

XX

The RMS Olympic was the first ocean liner to have an indoor swimming pool. Her sister ship, the Titanic, the second. Rare as it was, Matthew had found his first glimpse of it across the corridor from the Turkish Baths a bit mind boggling.

Only provided to first-class guests, the white and blue porcelain tiled pool measured thirty feet long and fourteen feet wide and was filled with a mix of heated salt water from a tank and cold water from the sea that was pumped in until the temperature of the water was tepid.

He had learned the day before from one of the Turks at the baths that the diving boards had been removed as some passengers had sustained injuries while using them.

 _Just as well_ , he thought, since all he had ever dived into were his studies at school and work once those were completed.

After guiding his three charges to the changing rooms and asking that they stay put outside their door should he not be done changing at the same time they were, he slipped into a vacant cabana and donned his bathing trunks and top.

His clothes neatly folded, he was about to turn the knob of the door when he heard a by now very familiar male voice addressing his son and daughter.

"Hello George…Victoria…It is nice to see you both, again."

"As it is you, Lord Gillingham," his son replied politely.

His daughter, gregarious by nature, greeted him more warmly and quickly invited him to join them in a swim.

"I'm sure Father wouldn't mind," she added cheerfully.

"And who is this young man? Is he a friend of yours, George?"

Matthew cautiously pushed the door open, and emerging with a towel draped over his arm, replied on his son's behalf, "He is the son of the woman traveling with us and a friend to both my children."

He then properly introduced JR to Tony, who flashed the boy a wide smile.

"And to answer your second question…," he said cheerfully," …I wouldn't mind your joining us at all."

At that, Tony beamed at Victoria and graciously accepted her invitation.

Since most passengers took their swim in the early morning hours, the lounge area surrounding the pool was empty, giving the small group their choice of seating.

The two men settled on chaise lounges while the youths draped their towels over an arm chair nearby. Then after promising Matthew that they would adhere to his edicts regarding safety measures, they walked to the edge of the shallow end of the pool and peered into the water.

One loud splash was followed by another as they all jumped in, none of them finding any use for the teak ladder and marble steps that the adults availed themselves of, and in no time, the two boys were racing across the length of the pool with Victoria cheering them on.

The sight made Matthew exceedingly happy and as he sank into the thick chair cushion, he let out a happy sigh.

Following his gaze, Tony said, "George is quite an accomplished swimmer."

"Thanks to Mary," Matthew said with a smile as his son executed a perfect backstroke. "She hired a private instructor to give him lessons when he was just a toddler and continued them until George was proficient."

"That is quite a young age for a child to be taught how to swim," Tony declared. "Is there a specific reason she had him tutored so early on?"

"Quite specific," Matthew replied. "George gave Mary quite a fright during a family outing when he tumbled into the lake on the estate chasing Robert's Labrador. She saw him fall into the water, but being eight months pregnant and ten feet away, she knew she wouldn't get to him in time before he went under. Thankfully her sister Edith was nearby and seeing what had transpired, jumped into the water and pulled him out before any real damage was done."

"Crikey," Tony exclaimed. "Mary must have been beside herself."

Matthew nodded, "She vowed that our son would not be allowed near a body of water again until he learned how to swim, nor would any of our other children."

"I think I would have done the same thing had it been Gertrude," Tony said. Then taking in the sight of Victoria standing alone in the shallow end of the pool, he asked, "Did Victoria also have lessons, Matthew? "I couldn't help but notice that she is reluctant to venture into the deeper water."

"She did and she won't, likely due to her swim instructor pushing her too hard; not the same chap who worked with George as he had moved to France. This fellow came highly recommended by a friend of Robert's, but neither he nor the instructor disclosed that he primarily tutored adults," He paused then and frowned before he continued, "I think that he found Victoria's whining that the water was too cold and her reluctance to swim in water over her head irritating and took her out into deeper water sooner than she was ready in order to hasten the completion of her training. When she tried to stand and didn't feel any bottom, she panicked and sank like a brick, taking in a mouthful of water before the tutor pulled her head above the water."

"What a prat!" Tony cried out.

"Quite," Matthew concurred. "Mary was furious and fired him immediately. However, Victoria was left damaged by the experience."

A contemplative look crept over Tony's face and after a few moments, he smiled and said, "I might be able to help with that, Matthew. Likely, you will not be surprised to learn that in order to serve in the Royal Navy you must first pass a series of rigorous swimming trials, including deep sea rescue. I could easily instruct Victoria, and with Gertrude in the water with us, she might trust me enough to help her lose her fear."

He was about to reply to the suggestion when George and JR interrupted him by asking if he had any coins that they could borrow as they wanted to throw them into the pool and dive for them. Though he didn't, his companion did, and upon retrieving a few bobs and a gold crown from his dressing room, he handed them over to the boys.

Grinning from ear to ear, they decided that they would compete to see who could bring the coins up from the bottom of the pool more quickly and enlisted Victoria as the time keeper, much to her delight.

He and Tony looked on, their gaze fixed on the children as the competition played out. Then upon hearing Victoria squealing that JR won the last dive, Matthew was reminded that he had never addressed Tony's kind offer and he turned to face him to do so.

The conversation that ensued was brief, just long enough for Matthew to relay that although he was grateful for Tony's proposition, he would have to discuss the matter with Mary before accepting it and him to suggest that in the interim he spend some time in the water with Victoria as it could prove useful should his plan come to fruition.

Nodding his head in agreement, Matthew said, "I think that is an excellent idea and I'll do my best to keep the boys busy so that she won't be distracted."

Then all hell broke loose.

"Mr. Crawley…Mr. Crawley…JR cried out frantically from the shallow end of the pool. Come quickly. George dove down for the coins and didn't' come back up and she…she…."

Matthew didn't need the boy to complete his sentence as he saw Victoria pounding him with her fist to break his grip so that she could get to George, her love for her brother overriding her fear.

"Hold onto her, JR, I'm coming," he shouted as he bolted out of his chair.

Tony rose at the same moment he did and matched his stride as they dashed toward the pool.

"Go to your daughter. Let me tend to George", he pleaded.

For a split second, Matthew looked at him as if he were mad. Then logic overrode his emotions. Concluding that a naval veteran trained in rescue at sea was better equipped than he to deal with the situation at hand, he nodded his head in acquiescence and jumped into the shallow water.

"Victoria, stop!" he shouted as if he were ordering his troops on the battlefield, and reaching her, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, much to JR's relief.

Matthew had never spoken to his daughter that way before and the harsh tone of his voice broke through her hysteria. Once he felt her relax, he moved his hands to her shoulders and turned her around to face him, and what he saw made the lump that already was lodged in his throat worsen.

His daughter's lovely face was mottled with red blotches, her eyes swollen and expression so pitiful that he yearned to comfort her by saying that George would be fine. Yet he could not as he wasn't sure he would be.

That thought hit him like a prizefighter's blow to his solar plexus and his stomach lurched along with his heart.

XX

 **AN: I'm sorry this chapter took so long and is so long. The characters just would not let me go! As to those characters, I'm sure many of you are wondering why I have decided to have Matthew and Tony bond as they did in this chapter, so I'll address that here. I believe that Matthew is the type of person that sees the good in people, just as Anna does. Once he was able to put his jealousy aside, I think that he would have given Tony the benefit of the doubt regarding his character, especially after he saluted him for his service in the Great War. Whether or not Tony will give Matthew reason to regret doing so remains to be seen in future chapters, so follow me if you would like to know.**

 **This chapter is packed with actual descriptions of what one could have expected on a voyage on the RMS Olympic in 1934, including Captain Binks, who served as Captain of the ship for three years in real life.**

 **As for the cliffhanger, if you want to know if George will be fine, you're going to have to read the next chapter. I promise I won't keep you hanging.**

 **I go through stacks of research to make this trip real, so please let me know what you think. A review goes a long way.**

 **Till next time**


	6. Chapter 6

" _Mr. Crawley…Mr. Crawley…JR cried out frantically from the shallow end of the pool. Come quickly. George dove down for the coins and didn't' come back up and she…she…."_

 _Matthew didn't need the boy to complete his sentence as he saw Victoria pounding him with her fist to break his grip so that she could get to George, her love for her brother overriding her fear._

" _Hold onto her, JR, I'm coming," he shouted as he bolted out of his chair._

 _Tony rose at the same moment he did and matched his stride as they dashed toward the pool._

" _Go to your daughter. Let me tend to George", he pleaded._

 _For a split second, Matthew looked at him as if he were mad. Then logic overrode his emotions. Concluding that a naval veteran trained in rescue at sea was better equipped than he to deal with the situation at hand, he nodded his head in acquiescence and jumped into the shallow water._

" _Victoria, stop!" he shouted as if he were ordering his troops on the battlefield, and reaching her, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, much to JR's relief._

 _Matthew had never spoken that way before and the harsh tone of his voice broke through her hysteria. Once he felt her relax, he moved his hands to her shoulders and turned her around to face him, and what he saw made the lump that already was lodged in his throat worsen._

 _His daughter's lovely face was mottled with red blotches, her eyes swollen and expression so pitiful that he yearned to comfort her by saying that George would be fine. Yet he could not as he wasn't sure he would be._

 _That thought hit him like a prizefighter's blow to his solar plexus and his stomach lurched along with his heart._

XX

AN: I know this chapter has been a long time coming, but I am working as fast as I can. Please let me know what you think of it.😊

 **Chapter VI**

Victoria was no longer crying now; the emotional numbing that takes place when you reach your breaking point having set in, putting an end to her tears for the moment. Seeing her father standing before her, she raised her arms over her head as she had done when she was a toddler and wanted him to take her out of her cot.

As he did then, Matthew complied with his daughter's request and lifted her into his arms, gently guiding her head onto his shoulder. Then he quickly cut across the shallow end of the pool and up the stairs to the landing.

"Sweetheart, you are shaking like a leaf. I'm going to put you down and JR will wrap some towels around you to warm you up," he said softly.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, her arms tightened around his neck like a vice and she shook her head violently back and forth in protest.

"I'll only be a few feet away, Victoria," he said, doing his best to keep the tone of his voice level and soothing despite the stranglehold she had on him. "Lord Gillingham might need my help with George."

That did the trick.

Victoria loosened her hold in an instant and nodded her head in acquiescence, the motion causing droplets of water from her wet braid to trickle down his neck.

"That's my girl," he said, grateful that he had not had to pry her fingers off him. Then he kissed the top of her head and lowered her onto the landing into JR's care.

"Don't worry, Mr. Crawley, you can count on me" the boy said as he placed one large thick towel and then another over Victoria's quaking shoulders and then plopped down beside her.

He knew that he could, too, and thanked him before garnering a promise from his daughter that she would stay put and moving to the edge of the pool.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making it impossible for him to remain still and he paced back and forth like a caged animal with his eyes fixed on the surface of the water in search of any sign of movement.

As time passed and he found none, fear wreaked havoc on his body, causing the saliva in his mouth to dry up and the muscles in his throat and chest to tighten to the point that he found it difficult to swallow or take full breath.

 _Please God…please help him_ played over and over in his head like a record spinning on a phonograph with the needle stuck, his inner dialogue out of sync with his racing heart. Then both were overshadowed by a loud gasp that drew all his attention.

"George," he croaked, spotting his son clinging to the side rim of the pool and gulping in air as though he were a starving man with a feast laid out before him.

For a moment, he stood frozen in place, his mind having anticipated an entirely different scenario than the one it now was presented with – one that included Tony, who was nowhere to be seen.

Then he bolted from his position like a racehorse coming out of the gate, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Hang on, Son! I'm coming."

XX

In the short time it took Matthew to reach George, he had managed to get his elbows up over the side and his arms rested on the pool ledge. Bending over, he took a firm grip on the boy's wrists and began hoisting him up.

As he was making headway, Tony broke the surface of the water directly behind George and boosted the lower half of his body out of the pool before vaulting himself onto the deck.

They stood side by side, then, on the narrow landing in relative silence, each grinning from ear to ear while they caught their breath. Their camaraderie was short lived, however, as Victoria's outcries from across the room propelled her father into action.

"Are you all right, George?" Matthew asked, before his eyes veered back to his daughter.

"For the most part, Father," he replied and then winced as he shifted his weight onto his left foot. "I still have some cramp in my foot, though. That is what kept me down so long. I'm afraid I'll require your assistance in getting to Victoria, which I'd like to do as quickly as possible since she appears quite put out."

That did him in.

Matthew had remained stoic throughout the events that had transpired in the last few minutes, but his son's concern for his sister's well-being over his own pushed him over the edge, and no matter how many times he cleared his throat, the lump in it would not dissipate.

He turned his head away and quickly swiped his eyes before returning them to George and nodding. "No worries, Son. I've got you."

Bending down, he instructed George to wrap his arms around his neck. Then he lifted him as he would a sack of potatoes and carried him to the lounge area with Tony in tow.

No sooner had he placed the boy down on the chaise lounge, his sister was upon him, hugging him tightly and blubbering. "I was so scared, George. I thought…I thought…"

He patted her back and pleaded, "Don't cry, Victoria. Please don't cry. I'm fine…truly I am."

Knowing that his son was not prone to public displays of affection, his response to his sister's distress warmed Matthew's heart and filled him with gratitude that Mary had been able to conceive a second child.

They had hoped for more, but the medical procedure that had enabled her to become pregnant with George and Victoria became less effective and riskier each time it was repeated. After a fourth attempt that was unsuccessful, Doctor Ryder had advised Mary that she should forego any further treatment and they followed his counsel.

Now, as he gazed at the two blessings they had been granted, it became clear to him that he needed to intercede in bringing Victoria around as George's failure to do so thus far had left him crestfallen.

He moved to the chair where they were huddled together and separated them Then he crouched down until he was eye level with the two and attended to Victoria, pushing back the wet hair that was plastered to her face with his fingertips and patting it dry with a corner of the towel that had fallen from her shoulders beside her.

"Your brother is safe, sweetheart. Now I want you to take a deep breath and then let it out very slowly. You can do that for me, can't you?"

She nodded and followed his instruction, calming a bit as she exhaled.

"Again," Matthew urged her.

Once more, she obliged her father, inhaling until her lungs were filled with air and then expelling it gradually.

As Victoria did so, she began to relax, her shoulders dropping down to their normal position and jaw going slack.

Then she smiled at him and said, "I feel much better now, Father. Can I breathe without thinking about how to do it now?"

He broke into a wide grin and tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger before replying that she most certainly could, which elicited a sigh of relief and chuckle from the group of males that surrounded her.

At that, Victoria sidled next to her brother, looped her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder with a blissful smile on her face.

Mission accomplished, Matthew rose to his feet and seeing JR and Tony, who had thus far remained rooted in place a few yards away, in his peripheral vision, turned around fully to address them.

He patted the Bates's son on the head as he sped past him to join George and Victoria and reached his hand out to Tony, who grasped hold of it.

"There are no words that can adequately express how grateful I am to you for saving my son's life, Tony."

His hand still locked with Matthew's, the Viscount shook his head and smiled before replying, "Though I appreciate the sentiment, Matthew, I cannot take credit for something I didn't do. George saved himself."

Flummoxed by Tony's declaration, Matthew turned back to his son for clarification. "George?"

"Well, that is not entirely true, Lord Gillingham," he said. "You did give me that mighty boost out of the pool, which was quite helpful…and I thank you for it."

Tony's mouth twitched before he replied that it was his pleasure.

Then George continued, "However, Father, he is correct in stating he didn't save me. You did."

Hearing his son's declaration, a look of concern crept over Matthew's face. "Are you sure you are feeling quite well, Son. You seem to be a bit confused."

George's response was quick and the tone of his voice emphatic. "I assure you I am of sound mind, though I can understand why you would think otherwise, Father. I see that I am going to have to explain myself if I am to be believed."

"Go on then, Son,' he said and folded his arms across his chest.

"When my foot cramped, I was skimming the bottom of the pool for the coins. The pain came from out of nowhere and was excruciating, nearly knocking the breath out of me and rendering me unable to swim." He paused then for a few seconds, his eyes glazing over and expression solemn as he continued to recount his ordeal. "I looked up at the surface and the distance between me and it seemed insurmountable."

Victoria's head popped up then, her eyes wide and focused on her brother as she awaited his next words.

Taking notice, an apologetic look crept over George's face, making it clear that in his attempt to paint a clear picture for his father, he had forgotten she was in earshot.

Instantly, his demeanor changed, the tone of his voice nonchalant as he continued. "Then I heard your voice, Father. It was as clear as if you were standing beside me. 'Y _ou need to calm down, George. The only thing keeping you from reaching the surface is panic_.'

You then told me to pull my toes back as that would give me some relief from the cramp, kick off from the bottom of the pool with my unaffected foot, bring my arms over my head…and make snow angels," he said as if he were Mrs. Patmore checking off her grocery list.

"Snow angels?" Matthew said with an incredulous look on his face.

George nodded and replied, "You said doing so would propel me quickly to the surface. And it did, Father. So, you see, it was you who saved me."

Though he knew that it was George's swimming instructor who had provided him with the wherewithal to get out of the sticky situation he had encountered and that his son had, in fact, saved himself, Matthew didn't contradict him.

Instead, with Victoria and JR staring at him as if he were Merlin in King Arthur's Court, he unfolded his arms, smiled broadly and said simply, "I see."

XX

Though by his outward appearance, George seemed fine, Matthew knew that it was important that he be examined by a physician thanks to Doctor Clarkson's admonition years earlier.

After his son had fallen into the lake, he had explained to him and Mary that though a child may appear perfectly normal after a near drowning, their intake of even a miniscule amount of water could result in damage to their lungs, rendering them incapable of functioning properly and leading to what was termed secondary drowning.

It was rare, but there were cases on record of children falling asleep after having a close call in the water who never woke. That was enough to seal his decision to take George to the hospital.

Matthew shared that information with Tony, who concurred with both Doctor Clarkson and him, having learned about secondary drowning while serving in the Royal Navy. The Viscount then volunteered to elicit the location of the facility from the Turkish Bath steward across the hall while Matthew and the children changed out of their swimwear.

Fifteen minutes later, the dressing room door opened with a swoosh and the heir apparent to Downton Abbey emerged with a canvas bag and a question for Lord Gillingham, who he found standing outside it.

"Can it be that you stood here in that exact spot only an hour ago?"

Tony sighed. "It is hard to believe, isn't it? So much has happened since then that it feels a great deal longer."

"I'm ready, Father," Victoria cut in, forestalling any further conversation as she emerged from her dressing room holding her wet suit at arm's length. "Are we going back to the cabin now? "

Taking the garment out of her hand, he deposited it into the bag he was holding, then informed her that they had a stop to make first.

Hearing that George was to be examined by a physician, Victoria's face scrunched up in dismay and she lamented, "But you've said he is fine. If that is so, why must he go to a hospital to be examined?"

"It is just a precaution, sweetheart. Nothing more. If your Mother were in the cabin, I'd bring you to her before taking your brother to see the physician, but she had plans with Anna this morning."

At that moment, he felt as though he were dealing with a miniature version of Mary, the expression on their daughter's face a mirror image of her mother's when she suspected subterfuge in order to spare her worry.

Fortunately, he didn't have to withstand her scrutiny for long as she was distracted by JR and George's bantering a few feet away.

"You do realize that I won that last round," JR teased. "By all accounts, and I defer to our official time keeper when I say that, you and I each won two rounds in the coin competition. Therefore, it ended in a tie."

Joining in the fun, Victoria, who had been the official timekeeper, nodded her head in agreement and then began to giggle.

George narrowed his eyes in mock disapproval and said, "You two may be laughing now but you won't be after our next match of _Sorry,_ no matter what color pawn Victoria uses."

He then turned to Lord Gillingham and apologized for his loss of money as the coins he had lent to him hadn't been retrieved from the bottom of the pool.

'No need for that, George," Tony said. "As far as I'm concerned, I've been paid back in full."

Both boys grinned at that, and though Matthew hated to put a damper on their high spirits, he had to let them know where they were headed and did so, emphasizing once more that the visit to the hospital was only a safety measure.

They took the news in stride, however, and his daughter had a change of heart upon seeing it, her cheerful disposition returning as she took his hand to leave.

Only Tony remained, still having to change back into his clothes, and after advising Matthew that the hospital was located on D-Deck behind the galley and asking if he would mind if he stopped by to see how George was doing, he wished him _good luck_ and entered his dressing room.

As he led the children toward the lift behind the grand staircase, Matthew answered the question he knew was forthcoming and said, "I'm not up to the stairs right now. It has been a long morning."

Victoria looked up at him and replied, "You do look a bit peaked, Father. Perhaps the doctor should examine you, too."

XX

Arriving at D-Deck, the young man in charge of manning the lift gripped the handle on the metal grate and it slid to the left, clanking as it came to the end of the track it rode on.

Following the children as they exited the car, Matthew turned to the operator and asked if he could direct him to the hospital.

"Of course, Sir," he said cheerfully. "Go to the end of this hallway and veer right. You will find the hospital at the end of the corridor. It is clearly marked, so there is no chance you will miss it." The young man looked from Matthew to the children then, eyeing them over quickly before he gripped the grate handle to close it and added, "I hope your visit goes well."

Matthew tipped his hat to him and directed the children into the passageway that led to the hospital. As they moved on, he heard the sound of the lift grate clicking back in place behind them and then a grinding sound as it slowly moved to the next deck.

He was alerted to his arrival by the scent of disinfectant that wafted through the double doors of the hospital, rendering the plaque on the wall identifying the room unnecessary. The smell grew stronger once they crossed the threshold, but that was where the similarity between this hospital and any other he knew of firsthand ended .

Two magnificent reproductions of Monet seascapes – _they had to be reproductions, didn't they?_ \- hung in gilded frames in one corner of the reception area. Each one was centered over a large tufted sofa with rolled arms and upholstered with a damask fabric depicting clusters of peacocks amidst flowers and assorted greenery. Large white tiles with emerald green diamond inserts in the corners covered the floors, and ornate silver sconces graced the paneled walls.

A woman with dark brown hair pulled tightly back from her face and a fair complexion rose from her seat behind a mahogany serpentine desk and greeted them with a warm smile. Extending her hand to Matthew, she introduced herself as Nurse Thompson, the hospital matron, and asked how she could be of service.

After identifying himself and his offspring, he suggested the children wait in the seating area while he brought the nurse up to speed and they happily obliged him, making a beeline for a large globe of the world that was mounted on a wooden stand between the two sofas.

Satisfied that the three youngsters were out of earshot and preoccupied, Matthew proceeded to give the nurse a methodical account of the events that led to his son's near drowning, pausing intermittently to allow her time to complete transcribing his account on a sheet of paper that was attached to a metal clipboard.

"My daughter was in the water at the same time and quite overwrought when she didn't see her brother surface. In fact, she put herself at risk by attempting to go into the deep end of the pool after him, as she is not a strong swimmer. "

She stopped writing then and raised her head, meeting his eyes. "You must have been beside yourself with worry."

"Terrified," he replied. "But being a firm believer in my mother's maxim that _cooler heads prevail_ , I put my fear aside and weighed my options."

Then he went on to explain the plan that he and Tony had hatched in order to get both of the children safely out of the pool.

Turning her attention to George and Victoria, she smiled and said, "Judging by your children's appearance, it seems your plan worked quite well, Mr. Crawley."

He followed suit, nodding his head as he acknowledged that it appeared no damage had been done, but then added that he would not feel satisfied that was the case until George had a thorough examination by the physician on call.

"I'd like to believe we've all come away from this ordeal unscathed but for some frazzled nerves, but I was made aware some years ago by our family physician that water damage to the lungs does not always present itself immediately. That is why I've brought George here.

"Once more, I think you have made the right decision," Mrs. Thompson said before returning her eyes to the clipboard she was holding and finalizing her notes.

"Please wait here a moment, Mr. Crawley. Doctor Stevens is just finishing up with a patient and will be with you shortly," she said before excusing herself and making her way through the arched doorway that separated the reception area from the treatment rooms.

As she disappeared from his sight, Matthew crossed the room to the globe and found George pointing out Southampton to his sister under JR's watchful eye. Getting a closer look at the sphere, he found it had been customized to highlight the ports frequented by the White Star line and eyed it with appreciation.

George did, too, and moving his index finger to Genoa, he asked him if he had spent any time in Italy.

"I did, but not since I was a boy, George. My father had a colleague there who lived in Rome and he took me and your Grandma Isobel to visit him. It is a beautiful country and my hope is that I will get to see more of it one day, especially the Mediterranean coastline. You know that your mother and I spent our honeymoon in Cannes and I would imagine the Italian Riviera is as spectacular as the French."

"I hope you can find the time as it would be worth your while if you did," Lord Gillingham interjected by way of announcing his presence. "I've spent a good deal of time there and found it quite extraordinary."

"Perhaps you can take Lady Gillingham there should you decided to take her on another honeymoon," Victoria piped in, her suggestion causing her father to wince.

Tony, on the other hand, found it amusing and chuckled before responding, "Lady Gillingham and I have already visited Italy, Victoria, but your recommendation is duly noted and appreciated."

His gaze fell on Mathew then and he asked if George had been seen by the physician.

"Not yet. He has been attending to someone else, but I've been assured by the hospital matron that we won't have a long wait."

A few moments later, a middle-aged man with fair hair, broad shoulders and a bright smile entered the room and apologized for the delay. Then casting his eyes on the two boys, he asked which one of them was his patient.

George stepped forward and said, "I am, Sir." Then extending his hand to the physician, he introduced himself.

Taking the proffered hand, Doctor Stevens shook it and grinned as he took in the appearance of the man who came up beside the boy, a near mirror image of him, albeit an older version.

"Mr. Matthew Crawley, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, Doctor Stevens," he replied.

Matthew then went on to introduce the physician to Lord Gillingham, who he referred to as a friend of the family.

Introductions out of the way, Doctor Stevens patted Victoria on the head and assured her he would take good care of her brother. Then he turned and walked over to Nurse Thompson, who had returned to her desk, and gave her instructions to come and get him if Doctor Harding should call.

"Please follow me, Mr. Crawley…George," he said with a wave of his hand in the air.

Taking his son under his wing, Matthew turned to Victoria and JR and said, "I expect you both to be on your best behavior." Then setting his sights on his daughter, he added, "And to find you here when I return."

At that, Tony said, "Don't worry, Matthew. I'll keep an eye on them."

The Viscount then asked the children if they would like him to point out the places he had travelled to while he was a naval officer on the globe, his offer resulting in wide grins on both their faces.

Matthew saw a flash of disappointment pass over his son's face and attributed it to his having to leave the room, but it passed in an instant, replaced by what he perceived to be a manufactured smile for his benefit as they followed Doctor Stevens out of the room.

XX

While George was being examined by the Olympic's physician to rule out secondary drowning, Mary sat beside Anna in blissful ignorance at a table situated before a large bay window in the Reading and Writing Room.

"I wish I could see Papa's face when he learns that George won that bicycle race," Mary said as the bright light flowing into the room fell upon the white sheath of paper with the swallow-tailed red pennant and five-pointed star imprinted on it. "He beams with pride over of his accomplishments, no matter what they may be."

"As well he should," Anna said, lifting her head from the missive she was composing to her husband and smiling. "Master George is not only his first grandson and heir, but he is intelligent, kind, respectful, and possesses a strong work ethic; all fine qualities."

Mary nodded, her eyes filled with pride as she sealed the letter she had written to her Father sharing some details of their trip thus far and letting him know they were having a wonderful time.

"You should have seen Mr. Bates' expression when JR's teacher told us he was at the head of his class. He was still smiling even after he fell asleep that night."

"That's wonderful, Anna…quite an accomplishment."

She nodded and opened her mouth to speak but was forestalled by the sound of someone tapping on the window and turned her head toward it. Recognizing Lady Gillingham, she quickly sealed her letter, lifted Mary's from the table and said, "If you don't mind, I'll post these and return to my cabin."

Offering her a sympathetic smile, Mary replied, "Thank you, Anna. That would be fine."

The former lady's maid rose from her seat with alacrity and left through the wide doors leading into the interior of the ship while Mabel Gillingham swept into the room from the deck entrance.

"I'm sorry if I drove your companion away," the Viscountess said, her eyes fixed on the door closing behind Anna.

Mary rose to greet her and countered quickly, "Not at all. She was already on her way out to post our letters when you arrived."

"Ahh…well that's good, then," she said before planting a quick peck on Mary's cheek. "I was hoping to discuss a personal matter with you if you could spare the time."

She glanced quickly at the clock on the white marble mantle above the fireplace, then nodded and sank into her chair.

Lady Gillingham pulled the seat that had just been vacated by Anna back and followed suit. Then she removed the hatpin that kept the fashionable Schiaparelli creation on her head in place and laid it on the table before turning to her companion.

Not wasting any time with small talk, she came right to the point and said, "I thought you might be wondering why I was, for lack of a better word, scrutinizing your husband's appearance at dinner last night."

Mary blinked and then replied, "I wasn't…but I am now."

The corners of Mabel's mouth rose into a broad smile. "I've always admired how frank you are. In fact, there is a great deal about you that I admire, Mary, which would undoubtedly surprise many of our mutual acquaintances under the circumstances."

Her head cocked to one side and eyes narrowed into slits, the future Countess of Grantham asked that Lady Gillingham clarify 'under the circumstances'.

Without a trace of rancor in the tone of her voice, Mabel replied, "The circumstances in which Tony broke off our engagement in order to pursue you, and despite his eventually marrying me, carrying a torch for you to this day."

Mary froze in her seat, gobsmacked by what she had just heard.

Taking note of the astonishment on her companion's face, Mabel said, "Come now, Mary, it cannot come as a surprise to you, or Matthew for that matter, that Tony still has feelings for you. Though he does his best to hide them, he never has been able to fool me. I do give him credit, however, for his restraint at dinner last night. His behavior was above reproach, which is a lot more than I can see for that little coquette we had to deal with."

Regaining her composure, Mary shook her head back in forth in disagreement. "Surely, you must be mistaken, Mabel," she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

She got one anyway as the Viscountess replied, "I am quite sure and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind, although your attempt to spare my feelings is appreciated."

"Then I won't attempt to," Mary said. "If your mind is made up, it would just be a waste of time." She changed tack then and asked, "What does this have to do with your ogling Matthew at the dinner table?"

The Viscountess let out a long sigh before launching into an explanation of her behavior, which in the end boiled down to her desire to ascertain what it was about Matthew Crawley that prevented Mary from moving forward in a relationship with Tony when she believed herself to be a widow."

"I've wondered about that for some time," she said matter-of-factly.

Mary's eyelids dropped and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Then she opened her eyes and met Mabel's. "I didn't know that Tony was engaged when he pursued me. As soon as I discovered he was, I made it clear to him that his attention was no longer welcome. Still, I'm sorry that my involvement with him caused you unhappiness."

Mabel tipped her head in Mary's direction and then folded her hands in her lap.

"As for what kept me from having a relationship with him, or any man for that matter, it was because no matter how hard I tried, I found I could not get Matthew out of my head or heart. The bond between us was as so strong, that even death couldn't sever it. I felt half myself without him, if that makes any sense to you."

"It makes perfect sense," Mabel replied" and I would give anything to have that with Tony. In spite of the heartache he has caused me, I still love him and want our marriage to be a happy one. That is the reason I planned this trip. I thought perhaps we could recapture what we felt for one another when we were courting…and if we did…,"

She paused then and swiped at her eyes before sharing that Tony had yearned to have a son since Gertrude had been born but she had not been able to become pregnant again.

"We both were medically examined to make certain there was no physical impediment that has prevented me from conceiving another child, and after none was found, my physician proposed that stress may be the cause. He told me that if I stopped worrying and found a way to relax, nature would likely take its course." She paused a moment and then shrugged he shoulders before she continued. "I couldn't think of anything more relaxing than an ocean cruise. Then we ran into you and Matthew at the station and…."

Mary's face scrunched up with dismay and she apologized for unknowingly throwing a monkey wrench into Mabel's plan. "You must hate me. If the shoe were on the other foot, I likely would you."

"No, you wouldn't," Mabel said, then amended her assertion with, "Well maybe you would for a short while, but then you would come to realize, as I did, that your husband's behavior, past and present, was no fault of mine."

She then went on to tell Mary that she had learned quickly that she bore no responsibility in her then finance' throwing her over as Charles Blake, his former comrade in arms, had told her as much.

"Charles is an honorable man and was quite piqued by Tony's behavior. In fact, he was surprised that I took him back after you showed him the door," she said with finality.

"Frankly, so was I," Mary replied. "Tony is lucky that you possess such a forgiving nature."

"Humph," Mabel snorted. "A forgiving nature had nothing to do it. After Tony broke our engagement, I vowed he would pay for making me a source of ridicule and pity wherever I showed my face...and I kept that vow. Without boring you with the gory details, I made sure that his life with me left a lot to be desired for quite some time... I sometimes think longer than I should have." Then lowering her voice, she said, "The only reason I went ahead with the marriage was because I discovered I was pregnant and didn't want the child I was carrying to be born a bastard."

Mary's eyebrows rose and she glanced quickly around the room. Finding no-one had been sitting close enough to overhear what Mabel had said, she let out a sigh of relief and then glanced at the clock a second time.

Taking note of it, Mabel reached for her hat and began to rise from her chair. "I'm sorry if anything I have said has made you uncomfortable, Mary, but glad we cleared the air."

Once she was on her feet, she swayed precariously from side to side and then plopped back down onto the leather chair cushion with a thump.

Jumping out of her own seat, Mary cried out, "Mabel, what is it? Should I call for help?"

The Viscountess shook her head and took a few deep breaths before she replied, "No…no…that won't be necessary. I feel fine now. Please don't make a fuss. I was a bit hungover this morning and didn't eat any breakfast. That is likely why I became lightheaded."

This time, Mabel did draw attention and a tall, thin man wearing spectacles, who had been sitting in an armchair near the fireplace with a book in hand, was nearly upon them.

"Thank you, Sir, but she is fine," Mary said, waving him off.

He stopped in his tracks and bowed his head in their direction, then returned to his seat and the novel he was reading.

Mabel smiled at Mary as she rose, then placed her hat on her head and secured it in place.

"You see, I'm fully recovered," she said, and twirled around once to prove her point.

Mary narrowed her eyes and demanded, "Promise me that you will see the ship's doctor should that happen again."

"You have my word. Now, I must be off. I'm beginning to feel guilty for taking up so much of your time it and I hate feeling guilty."

"As do I," Mary replied, grinning back at her. "And, Mabel… just for the record, I'm glad we cleared the air, too.

XX

"If it is one thing I've learned in life, it is to expect the unexpected," Doctor Stevens said before moving his stethoscope a few inches to the right on George's bare chest and asking him to take another deep breath.

Matthew stood to the left of the physician, nodding his head in agreement while attempting to read his face to ascertain if he had found anything amiss.

"That's a good, lad. Now, please cough for me, George," the physician said before moving the instrument… And once more."

He then repeated the procedure on his patient's back before lifting the circular chest-piece that comprised the diaphragm and bell, removing the rubber tips from his ears and placing the stethoscope down on the nightstand.

Matthews eyes remained focused on Doctor Stevens as he jotted down his findings, but found his expression still was blank.

 _He likely makes a killing playing cards,_ popped into his head before his wishing his own face were less expressive. Mary always knew when something was bothering him.

Raising his head from the clipboard, the physician asked, "Now, what was I saying?" Then he paused and ran his free hand over his chin for a long moment before blurting,

"Yes…yes…now I remember. I have learned to expect the unexpected. None of us knows when we wake each day what our maker has in store for us. Your son's mishap in the pool is a case in point. I doubt either of you would have thought you would wind up here when you made your plans to go for a swim this morning. Yet here you are. In a split second, life as we know it can be derailed by a sudden illness or an accident."

No one knew better than he how true that was, and Matthew winked at George before he said, "I know exactly what you mean, Doctor Stevens."

Giving him a knowing smile, George raised the top half of the hospital gown he had been given to wear and tied it at the neck. Then, with nothing left to do, he pointed to the framed portrait that hung over his bed and commented that it was a beautiful ship.

"Ahh…that she was, George, and I dare say the artist did her justice." He paused then and smiled appreciatively as he took in the fine details of the painting before returning his attention to his patient, who he found craning his neck in an attempt to read what was inscribed on the metal plaque beneath it.

"Would you be so kind as to read it, Doctor. I can't from this position."

Doctor Stevens nodded and moved closer to the portrait so that he could read the exact wording.

It says, " _RMS Atlantic, Launched July 1_ _st_ , _1871."_

He then went on to say that the ship was the second built for the White Star Line, sailed between Liverpool and New York, and was powered by a steam engine along with four sails.

Eager for more, George gazed at the other portraits in close proximity with a glint in his eye that was not lost on the physician.

"That one is a portrayal of the RMS Cedric, launched in 1902, followed by the Adriatic in 1906, the Megantic in 1908, and finally, the Majestic in 1913. All of them are quite beautiful ships but none could light a candle to the one we are sailing on now," he said, ending his short tribute to the steam-ship line that employed him.

As far as Matthew's eyes could see, there was no sign of the Titanic amongst the collection, which did not come as a surprise to him, considering the ship's resemblance to the Olympic and her tragic fate

He did wonder, however, if Doctor Steven's deviation from his examination had been purposeful in order to give George a breather. He had to admit that his son did seem more relaxed since the portraits had been addressed .

As if on cue, the physician returned to the matter at hand and began asking George a series of questions that pertained to his _mishap in the pool._

"Can you tell me how long you had held your breath before releasing it, George?"

"It felt like a very long while, but if it were, I wouldn't be here, would I? he quipped. Then in a serious tone, said, "I would imagine my father has a better idea of the amount of time I spent underwater than I do."

Put on the spot, Matthew hesitated for a second before he replied, "I can't be exact, but estimate it to be about 90 seconds."

George's eyes widened and he bellowed, "90 seconds! Is that all?"

Matthew nodded his head and then went on to say that he would expect the concept of time becomes distorted in situations such as his.

"Your father is quite right," Doctor Stevens said. "Your focus was on holding your breath as long as possible so you could get to the surface to breathe. I would not be surprised if you felt as though you had been under water an hour." Then he went on with his questioning.

"I didn't want to say too much with my sister at my side…," George began, his eyes fixed on Matthew and silently communicating _I'm so sorry you must hear this_ before he paused.

Offering him an encouraging smile, he said, "Go on, Son. I can bear it if you can."

George smiled back at him. Then he took a deep breath, let it out, slowly, and filled in the missing pieces.

"My foot cramped badly while I was collecting coins on the bottom of the pool. The pain was sudden and fierce. It nearly knocked the breath out of me…but I somehow managed to keep my mouth shut tight. I knew that was important. Then I tried to swim to the surface and found I couldn't. The water above my head felt like a ton of bricks pinning me down and I began to panic as the need to let out the breath I was holding grew stronger. I felt sharp pains here…" he said pointing to his ribs, "and then my lungs felt as though they were on fire. I couldn't hold my breath much longer but feared once I let it out, I would never breathe air again. Then I heard my father speaking to me."

Though he had managed to keep his face blank, Matthew's fists clenched at his sides and he swallowed hard, the sound drawing both his son's and Dr. Stevens' attention.

"Would you like to step outside for a few moments Mr. Crawley? I know this has been painful to hear."

Matthew shook his head, sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for his son's hand. "No, I'm exactly where I need to be, Doctor Stevens."

George then repeated what he had told everyone earlier at poolside in explaining how his father had saved him, eliciting a huge smile from his physician when he reached the part where Matthew had instructed him to make snow angels.

His grin remained in place while he scribbled some final notes. Then he patted the top of George and Matthew's interlocked hands before asking the latter to join him in his office so that they could discuss his findings.

"Your father won't be long, George. In the meantime, why don't you close your eyes and relax. You've been through a horrid ordeal, young man. I'm sure some rest will do you good."

Rising from the bed to follow him, Matthew concurred with the physician. "I wholeheartedly agree, George. A nap is definitely in order."

George nodded and began plumping the pillows beneath his head. Then he slid down the mattress, maneuvered his body into a comfortable position and closed his eyes.

XX

Doctor Stevens addressed George's assertion that Matthew had saved his life first, explaining that he likely had begun to hallucinate because the carbon dioxide levels in his blood had reached a critical level.

"Having said that, I would not rule out divine intervention as to the exact nature of his hallucination, seeing that it brought him the man he trusted most to guide him out of the fix he was in."

No stranger to divine intervention, he didn't doubt it and nodded his head in agreement.

"I found no evidence of pulmonary edema, shortness of breath, wheezing, discoloration of the skin or drop in blood pressure. His lungs are clear and working as they should. That is paramount…Therefore, based on my examination and George's account, I think it safe to rule out secondary drowning, but would still like him to remain in the hospital overnight for observation," he concluded.

Matthew felt as though he had been the person drowning and had just cut through the surface of the water and breathed deeply, his diaphragm no longer constricted by the anxiety that plagued him most of the morning.

He had assumed that his son would have to remain in the hospital once he had been asked to change into a hospital gown but thought it best to keep his assumption under wraps until it was confirmed, but his daughter had been blindsided by the news and didn't take it well. Now he regretted not mentioning it earlier to soften the blow.

Matthew didn't fault her for being upset. He had told her time and time again that her brother would be fine and now he had been confined to a hospital bed. At her young age, that made no sense and caused her to worry.

George, on the other hand, was resting comfortably when he left him. After waking from his nap, his only complaint had been the magazines that he was given to take the edge off his boredom as they didn't suite his taste.

Noting the sour expression on his son's face as he tossed "Photoplay", a motion picture fan magazine, down on the nightstand, Matthew promised that he would return soon with the book George had packed for the journey, "WE", a Charles Lindbergh novel, along the chess board that he and JR had been putting to such good use.

All that was left was to tell Mary what had happened.

 _Easier said than done_ , he told himself and he hesitated a few seconds before he closed his fist and wrapped on the suite door to gain entrance.

It swung open in a flash and he and the children were greeted by Anna, smiling from ear to ear until she saw Victoria's head hanging low. Her eyes moved quickly to her son, who displayed a similar woebegone expression and then to the empty space to his left.

That set off the alarm bell.

"What's happened?" she asked calmly, though her body was tensed like a coiled snake ready to pounce. "Where is George?"

Before Matthew could get out a reply, Victoria ran to Anna, wrapped her arms around her waist and cried out, "He almost drowned and is in the hospital."

The former maid's head snapped up and her eyes remained wide as she ran one of her hands down the little girl's hair while reaching out to her son with the other.

His eyes focused on his daughter, he didn't see Mary enter the room and only knew she had when he heard her gasp from across the room.

Quickly closing the distance between them, he took hold of her hand and said, "Darling, he is fine. The physician who examined him is only keeping him in the hospital overnight as a precautionary measure. Just give me a moment to gather some of his things and I will bring you to him so that you can see for yourself."

Mary nodded her head like an automaton and her face went blank. Yet he could feel the tremors passing through her body as they reached her hands like aftershocks that follow an earthquake. He wished he could say something more that would ease her mind but knew there wasn't. Victoria's outburst had rattled her to her core.

Their daughter let go of Anna then and ran to her mother, who still had not completely recovered from her revelation. Still, once Victoria was within her reach, Mary pulled her close and picked up where Anna left off, stroking her hair.

"You heard what your Father said, darling," she said calmly. "There is no reason for you to fret. Your brother will back with us tomorrow morning and we will all have a wonderful breakfast together. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Her head buried in her mother's pleated skirt, she looked up at her and nodded. Then she let out a loud yawn and began rubbing her eyes with her fists.

"Mother, I think I'd like to lie down," she said. "I'm awfully tired."

Anna joined them then with JR at her side and offered to turn down Victoria's bed, promising her that she would stay with her until her parents returned from the hospital.

The plan was agreeable to all, and after assuring his daughter that he would be back later that evening as he would remain with George until then , Matthew kissed the top of her head and set off on his mission to his son's room.

Upon his return to the sitting room, he found Mary standing before one of the windows staring out at the ocean. It was opened half way and a cool sea breeze flowed through it along with the sound of waves crashing rhythmically against the side of the ship.

A gust of air made its way into the room, ruffling the curtains that had been drawn and blowing a wisp of hair that escaped the confines of her chignon across her face.

Still she stood motionless.

"Are you ready, Mary?" he asked softly. "I have everything George asked me to get."

She blinked and turned her head toward him. Then taking notice of the two books in his hands, managed a weak smile and said, "I see you brought something for yourself, as well, to while away the hours."

"Yes, I still haven't discovered who committed that damnable murder on the Orient Express and there are only so many games of chess I can play before my head starts to pound," he replied, doing his best to keep the conversation light. He smiled then and expounded, "Robert has taught George well. He is quite a formidable opponent."

The expression on Mary's face changed then, the calm veneer that had been in place since Victoria sought her comfort giving way momentarily to her fear and doubt, both now on full display.

"You are positive that he is not in any danger?" she asked. "None, whatsoever? Because if he is, you must tell me, Matthew. I would need time to steel myself for that."

He nodded his head and relayed what Doctor Stevens had told him. Then he reached out his free hand to her.

"Come, darling. George will be happy to see you, though he will do his best not to show it. I'll answer all your questions on our way there."

XX

Matthew was right about George being happy to see his mother but wrong in his assumption that he would do his best not to show it. Normally quite a reserved child in public, George threw his arms around Mary's neck and kissed her cheek before he released her.

She touched the spot and smiled as she rose, her finger lingering on it for a moment before she inched back into the chair that was bolted to the floor near the head of the bed.

"If you ever ask my permission to join the Royal Navy, I will object vehemently to your request and deny it," she quipped, her spirits soaring at the sight of her son in good health.

It pleased him to see Mary rebound nearly as much as it did to see their son appearing as if nothing at all had happened to him.

"As will I," Matthew chimed in.

Sitting upright with two plump pillows propped behind his back, George chuckled and kept up the jocularity. "Rest assured that after my misadventure at the lake and now this, you will never hear that request from me."

They all chuckled then, the jovial sound passing through the long pale blue curtain that hung from a metal rod around his bed, giving them as much privacy as one could manage in a hospital ward, no matter how elegantly it was furnished.

As his laughter subsided, George announced that he was ravenous and hoped he would be allowed to eat.

"I don't see why you wouldn't be, Son, but I will make certain that is the case," Matthew replied and rose from his seat in order to find Doctor Stevens.

He pushed the curtain to the side in order to exit the partition and nearly collided with Captain Binks with the physician he sought in tow.

"Excuse me, Mr. Crawley, I would have knocked, but…," the Captain said, pointing to the curtain and giving him a sly wink.

Bowing his head in the commander's direction with a wide grin on his face, he replied, "No apology necessary, Captain Binks."

More pleasantries followed, with the Captain telling Mary that he was happy to see her again but wished the circumstances were different and Matthew introducing her to Doctor Stevenson.

She thanked him for taking such good care of George and then beat her husband to the punch by asking if his patient was restricted from eating.

"Not at all," the physician replied. In fact, the hospital steward should be delivering his meal at any moment along with a dinner menu."

At that, George's stomach let out a rumble and his cheeks turned pink. "Apologies to all," he said, noting the amusement on his visitor's faces.

"Would you and Lady Mary care to join your son for luncheon?" Captain Binks asked. "I'm sure I can arrange for you both to be brought a plate."

Matthew readily accepted the offer and Mary was about to reply but was forestalled by George.

"Mother, I am very happy that you have come and have enjoyed our visit very much but think it might be better if you had luncheon with Victoria. She had quite a fright today and no matter how much she may enjoy spending time with Anna, there is no substitute for you."

Rising from her seat, Mary smiled and said, "Quite right, George," before leaning over him planting a kiss on his forehead. "I'll come back later this evening and switch places with your Father so that he can tuck your sister into bed. How does that sound?"

George nodded and smiled, clearly pleased with the plan. Then sniffing the air, his smile widened.

After making her farewells, Mary pulled back the curtain to leave and the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and potatoes wafted through the opening, indicating luncheon had arrived.

Circumventing the serving cart, Matthew called out, "Hold on, darling. I'll walk you to the door."

Arm in arm, the two of them made their way into the reception area, catching a snippet of the phone conversation Nurse Thompson was engaged in at her desk along the way.

"Yes, I think it is wise that you come in today. Doctor Stevens is free to see you at your earliest convenience," she said before wishing the person on the other end of the line a good day and placing the handset back in the cradle.

Then she flashed them a bright smile and said, "I've heard your son is doing quite well…such wonderful news."

They nodded their heads in unison, both grinning from ear to ear until they reached the door that led out of the hospital and paused for a moment.

Mary turned to Matthew, laid her hand on his cheek and said, "I'm sorry if it appeared that I doubted you, darling. It is just…just that…"

"You had to see for yourself that he was fine," he said. Then he took hold of her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.

XX

"Checkmate," George exclaimed with a broad grin on his face. "Either you are quite tired or purposely making this easy for me. Which is it?"

Matthew grinned at him and replied, "I am tired and assume that my fatigue is affecting my game, thereby making it easy for you, but I don't think that is what you are asking me. If you are questioning if I threw the last three matches to lift your spirits in consideration of the day you've had, then my answer is, "No."

"I'm glad, Father. I didn't think you would resort to that type of subterfuge, but had to be sure I won fair and square.

Their conversation was put to rest then by the sound of footsteps outside the curtained partition that cloaked them. By the sound of it, one set belonged to Doctor Stevens and the other, a woman as her high-heels made a distinctive click on the tiled floor.

Though he did not want to eavesdrop on the conversation that now ensued between who he assumed was his son's physician and a patient, Matthew had little choice but to hear it as it was taking place a few feet away.

"Though you will need to have a blood or urine test to be 100% certain, based on my examination and your symptoms, I would say you are roughly six-weeks pregnant."

He assumed the woman Doctor Stevens was speaking with hadn't realized her diagnosis had been overheard and thinking it best that it remained that way, he raised his finger to his lips and shook his head, alerting his son to remain quiet.

Then, hearing the woman's voice, he was grateful George had complied with his request.

"My husband is going to be over the moon, Doctor," Mabel Gillingham gushed. We had nearly given up hope that I would become pregnant again and this is a dream come true for us both." She paused then and asked, "You are sure, aren't you?"

"As sure as I can be without the laboratory test results to back up my diagnosis," he replied. Then added, "However, I am not a stranger to obstetrics as I practiced it for five years before changing over to Surgery. During that time, my patient's lab findings were always in line with my initial diagnosis."

Mabel let out a long sigh of relief and after thanking Doctor Stevenson again and assuring him she would have the appropriate tests done when she reached New York, her footsteps resumed at a quick pace with the physician's close behind.

Once they were out of hearing range, Matthew let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. _The Gillingham's are having a baby_ set in and he smiled, happy for the both of them. Yet he knew he and his son should not have been privy to that news and frowned.

"Can we speak now, Father?" George whispered.

He nodded his head and began to whisper his reply, then elevated his voice to a normal tone and said, "You and I must keep what we just heard under wraps as it is not something we should know about. Therefore, mum's the word until Lord and Lady Gillingham announce their good news "

"My lips are sealed, Father," George said. "It certainly is wonderful, though, isn't it?"

Matthew nodded and then made a mental note to practice his poker face.

XX

Thanks to Anna's suggestion that they keep busy in order to keep Victoria from dwelling on her brother's absence, the day flew by. They had taken a stroll on A-Deck after luncheon, stopping intermittently for the children to join in a game that caught their eye.

Victoria had come across some girls her age who invited her to join them in a round of hopscotch and she literally jumped right in, while JR headed off with the girl's brother to play a game of marbles.

Mary and Anna watched their offspring from the deck rail, sunglasses firmly in place and hats secured so they would not be lost to the sea. The weather was fine and they took advantage of it, soaking up the sun until it was time to freshen up for dinner.

"I'm almost afraid to say it, Anna, as I don't want to tempt fate, but it appears the Crawley family has dodged another bullet." Mary said, as her former maid tidied her hair.

"Thank God," Anna replied, pulling a black hairpin from her long locks and placing it beside the others laid out on the vanity. "I just wish you didn't have to…dodge another bullet, I mean to say."

She nodded in agreement while Anna ran a lovely silver monogramed hair brush through her hair. It had been a gift from her Mother on her 16th birthday and Mary cherished it, especially since her initials remained intact.

"We have been tested over the years," she said, her eyes fixed on Anna's reflection in the mirror, but I am reminded whenever I look at Matthew that we've been blessed to."

At that, Victoria rushed into the room and announced that she and JR didn't care where they ate dinner, just so long as they could eat soon.

Happy to see that her spirits had improved, Mary smiled and assured her daughter that Anna was nearly done. Then JR popped his head into the room and offered to share the biscuit that he had just found stuffed in his pocket with Victoria, his kind offer lightening her spirits even further.

She quickly took him up on his offer and the two of them rushed out of the room to divvy up the baked good.

Mary turned to Anna and said dryly, "I wasn't aware that a hobnob could be so therapeutic."

Anna replied in the same vein, "Perhaps we should stock up on them."

Then, they both burst into laughter.

XX

"Will father be here, soon?" Victoria asked, as Mary pulled the bedcovers up over her. "He promised he would tuck me in."

"Yes, sweetheart, just as soon as I get to the hospital, he will be on his way."

Victoria smiled, and then let out a long yawn, covering her mouth with her hand as she had been taught.

"Are you sure you will be able to stay awake until he gets here?" Mary asked, taking hold of the tip of her daughter's braid and wiggling it under her nose.

She giggled until her mother stopped tickling her and then replied, " I won't close my eyes until I've wished him a good night. I'm so happy that he and George will be back tomorrow morning."

"I am, too, darling," Mary said and leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good night, now. Anna is right outside should you need anything."

"Good night, Mother."

Then she reached for the stuffed animal that her Aunt Edith had given her, wrapped her arm tightly around it and closed her eyes.

Leaving the door open a crack behind her, Mary picked up the wrap she had placed over one of the chairs in the sitting room, turned to Anna and smiled.

"I honestly don't know how I could have managed without you today. Thank you." Then she headed for the door.

She had decided that she would take the scenic route to the hospital once she had caught a glimpse of the full moon through her bedroom window and now took it in in all its glory as her heels clicked along the wooden planks.

Though she knew it was an optical illusion, the bright, massive orb seemed to be following her as she bypassed couples strolling arm and arm along the well-lit deck and others exiting through doors leading to the ship's interior.

Mary stopped for a moment and peered through the bay windows into the Ala Cart Restaurant, smiling as she got a whiff of the savory aromas that wafted in the air just as she had when they had dined in the glamorous restaurant their first night at sea.

Then she resumed her trek toward the entrance to the hallway that would lead her to D-Deck and her husband and son.

Eager to reach them, she had quickened her pace and soon came upon the Café Parisiene, which was packed to the gills and in full swing A small party in high spirits spilled out of the restaurant directly in her path and she stopped abruptly, giving them a wide berth as they all seemed a bit tipsy.

She politely turned her head as she waited for the group to pass by, then was nearly knocked off her feet by someone crashing into her shoulder.

Regaining her balance Mary turned around to face the culprit and was shocked upon recognizing who it had been.

"What the devil…," she spat. "You almost toppled me, Tony, and you reek to high heaven."

Lord Gillingham's eyes were half closed but upon hearing Mary's voice, they shot open and he moved towards her.

"Mary? Oh, Mary, it is you…I'm so happy to see you, my dear..but then I'm always happy to see you," he said, his voice slurring badly.

He swayed unsteadily on his feet and once he reached her, grabbed hold of her shoulders in an apparent attempt keep himself from keeling over

"Get your hands off me, you drunken fool," she hissed through clenched teeth.

He flashed her a crooked smile and raising his hands up, replied with dramatic flair, "Your wish is my command, Lady Mary.

Then he toppled forward like an axed tree in the forest.

Unable to sustain his weight, she fell back against the railing with him on top of her and it took every bit of strength she could muster to raise him enough to squeeze out from under him.

He fell into the railing, grabbing hold of the top bar in order to brace himself and then rest his head on his hands.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, Mary demanded to know why he was in such a wretched state and when she got no response, she eyed the deck for any sign of his wife.

"Is Mabel inebriated, too, Tony? Did you leave her somewhere?" she asked in a clipped tone.

He moaned into his hands.

"Answer me damn it, she may need my help."

His head rose a few inches then and he mumbled, "No," before laying it back down.

Her patience gone, Mary shook him hard and pulled his head up and around so that he faced her.

A bit of saliva dribbled out of his mouth onto his chin as he replied, "Mabel is fine…at least she was when she threw me out of our cabin…Well, not fine exactly…My slip of the tongue left her...agi…agit…agitated"

She let out a sigh of relief and then launched into conjecture. "So, you two had an argument because you said something stupid and she blew her top and threw you out. Then you proceeded to drown your sorrows at the Café. Is that the gist of it?"

Tony managed to turn the rest of his body around, pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his face with it before using it to blow his nose.

Grimacing at the sight, Mary told him to stay put until she could find someone to assist him in getting back to his cabin.

"It won't take long," she promised, taking a few steps away from the railing. "I must hurry as George is expecting me."

His bloodshot eyes lit up at the mention of her son's name and he grabbed hold of her hand, yanking her back

"He could have been my son," he cried out, his voice filled with emotion. "And I would have loved him as if my blood ran through his veins …because he was a part of you."

Mary stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock and her free hand curled at her side so tightly that her nails dug into her palm.

Taking note of the expression on her face, Tony turned his head toward the moon-lit ocean and kept his eyes fixed on it as he continued to purge his soul. "God knows how hard I've fought to keep you out of my head and heart…but when I saw you on that train platform, my battle was lost. Tonight, while Mabel and I were in the throes of passion, I called out your name. That is why she threw me out.."

The expression on her face softened as his words sunk in, her anger replaced by sympathy and she said softly, "I'm sorry, Tony. Truly, I am."

At that, he turned back toward her, looked deeply into her eyes and pleaded, "Please don't leave me, Mary. I need you so."

Then he pulled her into his arms.

Though she was taken by surprise, Mary reacted quickly and fought him with renewed vigor, kicking him in the shin and pinching his thigh as hard as she could while demanding that he release her.

She heard the sound of footsteps clanking on the deck, quick and growing louder with each second that passed until they stopped directly behind her.

Matthew's voice boomed in the air like cannon fire. "Let her go, Tony. Now!"

XX

AN: Yep, I'm going to leave this there and let your imagination run wild until Chapter 7 is up. I'm sorry there has been such a long lapse between chapters and hope I can get that one up sooner than I did this one.

Truth be told, I have a very hectic life and must schedule time to write. There are times when I'm just too tired to follow that schedule. Hence, the long delays.

In spite of that, however, I will continue writing and hope you will continue reading this story as I think it will prove worthwhile if you do. It won't end when the trip to America does as that is not the only passage that the title is referring to.

Until then, please let me know what you think of this chapter. Reviews are a very welcome reward for my efforts. Even a thumb's up is appreciated.

Till then.


	7. Chapter 7

_She let out a sigh of relief and then launched into conjecture. "So, you two had an argument because you said something stupid and she blew her top and threw you out. Then you proceeded to drown your sorrows at the Café. Is that the gist of it?"_

 _Tony managed to turn the rest of his body around, pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his face with it before using it to blow his nose._

 _Grimacing at the sight, Mary told him to stay put until she could find someone to assist him in getting back to his cabin._

 _"It won't take long, she promised, taking a few steps away from the railing. I must hurry as George is expecting me._

 _His bloodshot eyes lit up at the mention of her son's name and he grabbed hold of her hand, yanking her back_

 _"He could have been my son," he cried out, his voice filled with emotion. "And I would have loved him as if my blood ran through his veins …because he was a part of you."_

 _Mary stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock and her free hand curled at her side so tightly that her nails dug into her palm._

 _Taking note of the expression on her face, Tony turned his head toward the moon-lit ocean and kept his eyes fixed on it as he continued to purge his soul. "God knows how hard I've fought to keep you out of my head and heart…but when I saw you on that train platform, my battle was lost. Tonight, while Mabel and I were in the throes of passion, I called out your name. That is why she threw me out."_

 _The expression on her face softened as his words sunk in, her anger replaced by sympathy and she said softly, "I'm sorry, Tony. Truly, I am."_

 _At that, he turned back toward her, looked deeply into her eyes and pleaded, "Please don't leave me, Mary. I need you so."_

 _Then he pulled her into his arms._

 _Though she was taken by surprise, Mary reacted quickly and fought him with renewed vigor, kicking him in the shin and pinching his thigh as hard as she could while demanding that he release her._

 _She heard the sound of footsteps clanking on the deck, quick and growing louder with each second that passed until they stopped directly behind her._

Matthew's voice boomed in the air like cannon fire. "Let her go, Tony. Now!"

 _XX_

 **Chapter VII**

Like a dead tree hit by lightning, Matthew was set ablaze by the sight of his wife struggling to escape Tony's clutches, the scene before his eyes unleashing a fury in him that had thus far remained buried on the battlefield at Amiens. It was back with a vengeance now, laying waste to his sense of decorum and good-natured demeanor.

He wanted to rip the drunken sod's head off his shoulders.

Yet he remained rooted in place, as it was clear to him that any harm done to Tony could easily extend to Mary in her precarious position. That enraged him further and he huffed and puffed like the fabled wolf when faced with the three pigs' brick house.

His conundrum did not last long, however, as Tony, being just sober enough to recognize his voice and the tenor of it, quickly dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back, leaving himself wide open.

With fists clenched as tight as his jaw and a murderous look in his eyes, Matthew advanced upon his wife's assailant but was stopped dead in his tracks by Mary's response to being man-handled.

"How dare you…," she spat before slapping Tony's face with such force that his head jerked sideways.

He shook it back and forth as the blow brought him out of his stupor, one hand moving quickly to his bruised cheek and the other gripping the railing for support. Then he fixed his eyes on Mary.

"I deserve that and more…my behavior has been unconscionable," Tony said, his speech less slurred than when he first spoke to her.

Mary gave him a contemptuous look before she turned on her heels and quickly bridged the gap between her and her husband, throwing her arms around Matthew and burying her head in the crook of his neck.

He embraced her and asked anxiously, "Darling, are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

Slowly, she raised her head and met his gaze. "I'm fine, Matthew. My hand stings a bit, but that is of my own doing."

He smiled at her, and encircling his fingers around her palm, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Better?"

"Much," she replied, her lips curving upward as she gazed lovingly into his eyes.

Matthew turned his attention to Tony then, the rage that drove him mere moments ago losing its intensity thanks to Mary's wallop and her residing safely in his arms. Though he still felt animosity toward the man, he had a tight rein on his emotions.

"Now, what do I do about him? he said, thinking out loud.

"Do whatever you see fit, Matthew," Tony muttered, addressing him for the first time since he was discovered assailing his wife. "I don't expect to walk away from this scot-free…nor do I expect your forgiveness, though I am deeply sorry for my actions. The only thing I ask is that neither you nor Mary breathe a word of this to Mabel. It would break her heart to hear what I've done."

 _More than you know_ , Matthew thought, assuming Tony was still in the dark about his wife's pregnancy _._

He was about to respond when Mary beat him to the punch for the second time by stating flatly that she would not inform Mabel of his abominable behavior.

"And make no mistake…my silence is for her sake, not yours," she added in a clipped tone.

That took a weight off Matthew's shoulders as he had hoped he would not have to disclose Mabel's condition in order to influence Mary's decision. He could rest easy now, knowing she would not speak a word of the incident to Tony's wife in her delicate condition.

No matter how much he would relish seeing him get his comeuppance, he wouldn't either.

Still, he was in a quandary as to what action he should take in response to the man's transgression.

Matthew lowered his head and pondered the situation at hand until he came up with a solution that he could live with. Then he quietly shared it with Mary to be certain she could, too.

He would make it clear that for Mabel's sake, he, too, would remain silent. However, should Tony even look at Mary the wrong way going forward, all bets were off.

Furthermore, he would have to make a concerted effort to avoid him and his family the rest of the trip and upon returning to England. Any invitations that he or Mary had extended to him or his wife in the last few days were rescinded.

The same would apply to his offer to give Victoria swimming lessons It was now out of the question.

That hurt as he recalled how grateful he was when Tony had offered to help his daughter overcome her fear of the water, and it pained him even more when he envisioned him diving into the pool to save George.

Damn you, Tony. Against my better judgement, I began to trust you…. even thought that we could be friends. You've made that impossible now.

Matthew sighed and raised his head, fixing his gaze on the disheveled man who stood a few feet away, taking in the remorse and anxiety in his bloodshot eyes.

"I don't know whether I should throttle you or pity you," he said.

Then he advised Tony of what he expected of him in the future.

"Victoria's friendship with Gertrude is going to complicate matters somewhat… I won't deny her the pleasure of spending time with your daughter because of your wrongdoing. Perhaps we can work out some arrangement with Mabel that would not include you…but that is for another day. All I need to hear from you now is that you will abide by my wishes."

Meeting his eyes, Tony replied, "I understand what you want, Matthew, and will comply with each of your edicts to the letter." He ran his hand through his hair then, pushing his wavy black locks back from his forehead before he continued. "Though it may be hard for you to believe in lieu of my actions, the truth is that it will pain me to do so as I had hoped…" He paused and swallowed hard before he continued. "Never mind, it doesn't matter what I had hoped now."

 _Damn you_ crept into Matthew's mind once again. _Damn you and your weakness._

Clenching his teeth, he nodded his head in agreement, unable to find words to express the anger and regret that were making his stomach roil. Then Mary took his arm and put an end to his inner conflict.

"Mabel must be worried about you, Tony, no matter how angry she is. Can you make it back to the cabin on your own steam?"

He nodded his head and said, "Thank you both for your discretion. Your kindness will not be forgotten.

Then he turned and headed off to salvage what he could of his marriage

Matthew and Mary kept their eyes focused on him until he disappeared into the interior of the ship and then turned to each other.

"I know we need to discuss this further before putting the matter to bed, but I left our daughter valiantly fending off sleep until she can wish you 'good night', Mary said.

"And George is likely wondering what is taking you so long. Go on, darling. I don't want him to worry or to break my promise to Victoria.

Mary nodded, then gave him a quick peck on the lips and took off at a fast clip, calling over her shoulder that she would see him at the hospital when he was done tucking Victoria in.

XX

Victoria's eyelids were at half-mast when her father arrived, but she had succeeded in staying awake and flashed him a bright smile once she caught sight of him standing beside her bed.

"I'm glad to see you, Father," she said, her eyes straining to stay open. "I was beginning to worry that something may be wrong with George."

"No, sweetheart, your brother is fine. I just lost track of the time, that's all. I'm sorry I'm so late."

"I forgive you…and so does Mickey," she replied, pulling the stuffed doll out from under the covers and waving it in front of his face.

He took hold of one of its tiny white-gloved hands and said, "Thank you for your patience, Mickey," his playful performance resulting in Victoria bursting into giggles.

The corners of his mouth rose in an instant and remained that way as he reveled in his daughter's laughter.

Once it subsided, he slid the mouse back under the bedcovers , then fulfilled his mission by tucking her in.

"Good night, sweetheart," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you in the morning."

She yawned and mumbled sleepily, "Good night, Father…and tell George that…tell him I wish him a good night, too."

After promising her that he would, Matthew rose and headed for the door with his smile still firmly in place. Once he reached it, he turned to take one more look at his little girl and saw that she was fast asleep.

Crossing through the threshold into the sitting room, he found that Anna was also having difficulty staying awake. Her eyelids drooped and crochet needle rested in her lap atop of what appeared to be a nearly completed doily.

He gave her as gentle a nudge as possible as he didn't want to frighten her, but she still popped up like a jack-in-the-box with a dazed look on her face and cried out his daughter's name in alarm.

"Victoria is fine…" Matthew assured her. "I just left her sleeping soundly in bed…which is where you should be, Anna. You are clearly exhausted. Go on…Mary will be back from the hospital shortly."

She smiled up at him and rose from the red bergère armchair. "I am quite tired," she replied. "Still, I'll leave the door between our cabins open a crack so that I can hear Victoria should she need me."

Matthew thanked her for vigilance and then he headed back to the hospital, where he would spend the night with George.

He avoided the deck on his way and made a mental note to advise Mary to do the same in order to avoid any further perils. The day had been fraught with them and he wasn't sure if he could handle one more.

The interior route also would get him to the hospital more quickly, which in turn would give Mary ample time to be back in their suite before the passengers who had imbibed too much liquor began roaming the corridors in search of their cabins.

An image of his wife safe and sound in their bed made him smile, but his expression changed once the now familiar scent of antiseptic filled his nostrils, making his face scrunch up with distaste.

As he entered the reception area of the hospital, he found a woman with light brown, wavy hair and green eyes manning the desk that Nurse Thompson had occupied earlier that day.

"Hello, I'm Matthew Crawley and I'm here to spend the night with my son, George, who is being treated by Doctor Stevens."

Rising from her seat, the woman extended her hand and introduced herself as Nurse Crenshaw.

"Doctors Stevens advised me that you would be coming, Mr. Crawley, and we've made arrangements to make you as comfortable as possible while you are here. A cot has been set up next to your son's bed should you desire to use it.

 _Oh, yes! There is nothing I would like more right now_ rang out his head, his mind as eager to rest as his body.

He smiled broadly at her and thanked her for being so accommodating. Then he headed for the corridor that led to George and Mary.

Though he was tired to the bone, the sound of his wife's laughter echoing in the hallway rejuvenated him, providing him with a surge of energy as he reached the partitioned space afforded to George.

Pulling the curtain flap open, he found his son in good humor, sitting up in bed and sporting a wide grin as he took in the sight of his mother's glee.

"What am I missing?" he asked before planting a quick kiss on Mary's head and filling the chair next to her.

She opened her mouth to reply, but her response was stifled by her laughter and she motioned to George to answer.

"We've been reminiscing, Father," he said, reaching for the glass of water that lay on the nightstand beside his bed and taking a long gulp before placing it back. Then he grinned and said, "I reminded Mother of how Horus used to gnaw on Grandfather's bed slippers when he was a puppy. No matter how many times he was reprimanded, he continued chewing on them."

"It became a battle of wills between Papa and the dog," Mary interjected, having regained her composure enough to speak. "Horus was quite an adorable little pup and my father hated scolding him, so he eventually threw in the towel, allowing the Labrador to do whatever he wanted with the slippers… And he did," she added with a smile that reached her eyes.

Pleased to see her and George in such high spirits, he grinned and egged Mary on. "Pray, continue. Exactly what liberties did Horus take?"

"He took many, but one particular incident stands out in my mind. That is what had me in stiches when you arrived. Papa wasn't feeling well and George and I thought a visit might cheer him up a bit. We found him sitting in his favorite arm chair reading the London Times with his toes poking through multiple holes in his slippers while the puppy did his best to yank them off his feet. Horus kept yapping at the mangled mules until Papa finally rose from his chair and began chasing him around the room, waving his newspaper at him in an attempt to get him to leave… but he couldn't catch him. It was quite a hilarious scene to behold."

Envisioning the melee his wife and son had walked in on, Matthew began to chuckle. Then seeing George yawn, he looked at his watch and alerted Mary as to how late it was.

She rose quickly, covering her mouth to suppress her own yawn and then gathered her wrap and kissed her first born on his forehead.

"Sleep well, George, and don't eat too much if they bring you a plate in the morning as I've planned a lavish breakfast in your honor."

"No worries, Mother," he replied. "Rest assured, I will be ravenous by the time I get back to the suite."

She smiled, and then seeing Matthew rising from his seat, pressed down on his shoulder, insisting she did not need to be escorted out of the hospital.

"You look as though you are ready to fall flat on your face," she said.

Too tired to disagree, he met Mary's lips in a quick kiss and bid her 'good night'

Once the opening in the curtain flap closed behind her, he turned and looked longingly at the austere bed he would occupy the rest of the evening. Then he removed his jacket and shoes and headed for it.

"Grandfather is a good egg, isn't he Father?" George said, his rhetorical question getting his father's attention. "Though he is strong-willed and can be a bit gruff a times, I have always found him to be a fair man…and he can be quite gentle, too. I've seen that side of him often."

"That he is, George," Matthew replied as he plumped the pillow he had been provided with his hands

There was silence in the room for the next few moments as the two presumptive heirs reflected on the current Earl of Grantham.

Then the next in line's voice boomed throughout the small enclosure. "I wonder just how many pairs of slippers Horus laid to waste before his reign of terror ended?"

At that, the two of them began chuckling, the sound of their merriment filling the room until their fatigue could no longer be ignored, and they settled down to sleep.

It was not meant to be, however, as no sooner had Matthew drifted off, then he was awakened by the sound of a woman shrieking like a banshee, startling him so that he nearly fell off his cot.

"The pain is unbearable! I demand to see a physician," she screamed, the shrill sound of her voice echoing throughout the ward.

Next, he heard Nurse Crenshaw's reply, though he had to strain his ears in order to do so as she nearly whispered it.

"Please, Mrs. Harris, try to calm down. I have called Doctor Stevens and he will be here soon to attend to you."

Now sitting upright, Matthew stretched his neck to see how George was handling the commotion and was surprised to find he was sound asleep. That alarmed him and he padded over to his son's bed to be sure nothing was amiss.

He set his eyes on George's chest first and was happy to find that it was rising and falling in a normal rhythm. Then he focused his attention on the sound of his breathing.

The boy was snoring softly as he did often in his bed at Downton and the sound was music to Matthew's ears as it was another indication that his son suffered no ill effects from his ordeal in the pool.

He returned to his cot with a smile on his face, but it faded quickly upon hearing the ailing woman's whimpers as she was guided to the examination room by Doctor Stevens, who had arrived quickly, as Nurse Crenshaw promised he would.

"I believe you broke your arm when you fell, Mrs. Harris. That spill you took on the steps must have been quite nasty. Now, I'd like you to take in some deep breaths and let them out slowly, counting each one. By the time you've reach 10, we'll have reached the examination room, where I will x-ray your arm and provide you with some medication to relieve your pain."

She did as she was told, and Matthew counted along with her as she inhaled and exhaled her way down the corridor, the sound fading the closer she got to her destination until it was finally extinguished.

Though he felt sympathy for the woman's plight, he let out a sigh of relief when he could no longer hear her cries and settled back down in his narrow bed, closing his eyes the instant he lay flat and drifting quickly off to sleep.

An hour or so later, Doctor Steven's came to examine George, and though both he and his patient did their best not to wake him, Matthew's eyes shot open as he heard his son cough at the physician's request.

He remained quietly in place, though, until he heard the doctor whisper that he found no change and directed George to go back to sleep. Then he offered the physician a mumbled thanks, let out a sigh of relief, and drifted off, once more.

XX

Matthew preferred tea, but after having his sleep interrupted multiple times throughout the night in the hospital, he opted for coffee upon his return to the suite.

"I think the worst place for a person in need of rest is in a hospital, whether it be on land or sea,"he declared, after having drained his second cup of the strong, black brew and placing the cup back in its saucer with a soft clink.

Mary nodded and reached for the carafe. "Would you like another cup, darling? You still appear a bit peaked."

He shook his head and smiled in her direction before assuring her that he was fine.

"More importantly, George is," he added. "Doctor Stevens gave him a clean bill of health. That is all that matters...As for me, I think a hot shower and change of clothes will make a new man out of me."

Mary rose from her seat and moved behind his chair, leaning over and wrapping her arms around him before she placed a kiss on the top of his head. "I'm quite fond of the one I have now," she teased. "But I agree that you will feel much better once you've showered and shaved. Then we can plan our last full day at sea."

Matthew cranked his neck back as far as he could and looked up at her, puckering his lips invitingly.

She chuckled before bending over, placed her hands on the sides of his face and kissed him soundly.

They were still smooching when the sound of someone clearing their throat gave him a jolt and he and Mary broke apart.

"It is wonderful to have you and Master George back," Anna said from the corner of the room.

"Thank you, Anna…for that and your support throughout the entire ordeal," Matthew replied.

She acknowledged his thanks with a tip of her head and then gushed, "I've spent the last ten minutes searching for a game piece that George insists his sister is hiding and I enjoyed every second of it. It was wonderful to hear the two of them bickering again, and I can tell it made JR quite happy, too, as he was still grinning from ear to ear when I left the room…without the missing piece I'm afraid."

"Oh, I'm sure it will turn up, Anna," Mary said with a wry smile. "More than likely in one of Victoria's shoes."

The three of them burst into laughter, the sound drowning out the ongoing squabble in George's room and JR's guffaws.

Then Matthew patted Mary's hand and she released him, her own merriment subsiding as she returned to her seat.

Fueled by caffeine, he rose and headed off in the direction of the wardrobe room, calling over his shoulder that he was up to any plans Mary and Anna made as long as there was time set aside for him to show George the plaque commemorating the Olympic scuttling the German U-boat while transporting troops during the war.

No sooner had he turned the corner, he popped his head back in and added, "Of course, no-one is excluded from joining us. I think JR, especially, might find the plaque and its history interesting."

"I'm sure he would," Anna said.

Appearing pleased, Mary piped in, "Well, that takes care of the boys... I was actually planning on getting a manicure this morning with Anna, if she would oblige me… and I think if we allow Victoria some say in the color of the lacquer, she wouldn't mind tagging along with us."

Anna's eyes widened at that, and although her expression remained quizzical, she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"I have a surprise in store for you, which requires a bit of primping," Mary added. "Just trust me."

Smiling broadly, Anna replied, "I do, and I'm quite intrigued."

"As am I," Matthew said, his eyes focused on the former maid, "However, since I am certain my wife won't reveal whatever she has in store for you until she is good and ready, I'm off."

"Don't be too long, darling," Mary called after him. "The food should be arriving shortly."

XX

Matthew did not have to be called to breakfast as he was alerted that it awaited him by the smell of bacon that wafted beneath the door to his wardrobe room, making his mouth water and hastening his tying of his shoes.

Entering the sitting room with alacrity, he found that Mary had not exaggerated about breakfast being a grand affair. There was scarcely room for the salt and pepper shakers as one steaming tray of food after another lay atop of what he had once thought a large table.

The Crawleys and Bates were seated in what had become their designated chairs when he arrived, eagerly awaiting him to take his place so that they could begin filling their plates. Mathew smiled and urged them to do so as he took his seat. Then his eyes took in the feast before him.

Individual servings of poached and boiled eggs were wedged between large platters of plain and tomato omelette, grilled bacon, ham and sausage. Silver serving dishes filled with jacket potatoes, boiled hominy, rolled oats, baked apples and stewed prunes sat beside a stack of buckwheat cakes. There were scones, too, plus corn bread and Vienna rolls crammed into weaved baskets to be topped with creamy butter or orange marmalade.

Added to the cornucopia of delectable dishes, a large bowl of fresh fruit lay on a side table, since there was no room for it on the main.

"You outdid yourself, darling," Matthew said, placing his napkin in his lap. "There is enough food here to feed a regiment in the army."

Mary thanked him, and positioning her own napkin, said, "I have no doubt that you and George will put a sizeable dent in the heap."

"I will, too, Mother, if given the chance" Victoria said. "My stomach has been grumbling for hours and hours and I would love some of those buckwheat cakes but can't reach them. Would someone please help me."

The platter sat directly in front of JR and he quickly placed a couple of them on his empty plate, jumped out of his seat , and brought it to Victoria, taking hers in return.

"Are two enough to start?" he asked. "I'd be happy to get you more."

Victoria flashed him a sweet smile before thanking him and stating that they would do quite nicely for now before focusing her attention on her food.

Rooted in place, JR nodded and cleared his throat. "Well, I'd be happy to get you anything else you might fancy if I can reach it," he said before turning on his heels and shuffling back to his seat.

Mary and Anna gave each other a knowing look, their mouths twitching as they began to pass around the serving dishes that crammed the table.

Taking notice of the two women's expression as they kept the food moving along, Matthew looked from one to the other and asked, "Am I missing something?"

Mary cleared her throat and replied, "Nothing you need to be concerned about, Matthew…at least not for a few years."

Then she turned to Anna and winked.

He shook his head back and forth in confusion and then put his wife's puzzling comment on the back burner along with whatever surprise she had in store for Anna _. Mary certainly can be quite enigmatic at times_ , he thought before swallowing a forkful of eggs and reaching for his second roll.

XX

"There it is, Father," George cried out, spotting the commemorative plaque about ten feet away from him as they entered the First-Class lounge.

He quickened his pace then and JR matched him step for step as the two of them made their way toward the memorial with Matthew in tow.

"I see it, Son," he replied, doing his best to keep up with the boys, but failing miserably due to his lack of sleep and full stomach.

 _I never should have eaten that second helping of bacon_ , he told himself as he brought his hand to his mouth to cover a belch and pushed himself forward.

At that moment, Matthew wanted nothing more than to lay down in one of the lounge chairs on deck and take a nap, preferably with the sun shining, a cool sea breeze washing over him and the sound of the ocean lulling him to sleep.

Unfortunately, that was an impossibility for more than one reason.

The first was that he had promised George that they would seek out the plaque he was edging toward when his son had discovered it existed while researching the Olympic back at Downton. The second was that a thick fog had rolled in, making it impossible for him or anyone else on board to enjoy the deck as they would be enshrouded by a white mist that made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you.

Catching up with George and JR, he found his eyes needed a bit of assistance here, too.

"I forgot to take my spectacles with me, Son. Would you mind reading the wording out loud?" he asked.

George complied quickly, reciting the American soldier's tribute verbatim. "'This tablet presented by the 59th Regiment United States Infantry commemorates the sinking of the German submarine U-103 by the Olympic on May 12th, 1918 in latitude 49 degrees 16 minutes north longitude 4 degrees 51 minutes west on the voyage from New York to Southampton with American troops.'"

Hanging next to the plaque was a photograph of the ship that had been nicknamed "Old Reliable" as she had appeared on that fateful day, painted gray with dazzle camouflage and directly beneath it, a historical accounting of what was undoubtedly one of the most exciting activities in the career of the RMS Olympic.

"In the small hours of the morning of May 12, 1918, whilst the Olympic was en route to France with U.S. troops under Captain Hayes' command, a surfaced U-boat was sighted just 1,600 feet ahead. Her gunners immediately opened fire, and she turned, ramming the submarine, which immediately crash dived to 98 feet and turned a parallel course. It was almost immediately when Olympic struck the submarine near the conning tower with her port propeller slicing through the sub's pressure hull.

The U-103 crew blew her ballast tanks, scuttled her and then abandoned the submarine right there. Olympic didn't stop to pick up any survivors, but made her way on to Cherbourg. The USS Davis sighted distress flares and picked up 31 survivors from U-103.

The Olympic made her way to Southampton with at least two dented hull plates and her prow twisted on one side, but it wasn't breached. It was later learned that U-103 was intending to torpedo the ship when she was sighted, but the crew couldn't flood the two torpedo tubes. Captain Hayes was awarded the DSO for his service."

"Quite impressive, isn't it?" Matthew said.

George and JR nodded their heads enthusiastically, their eyes wide as they took in the image of the Olympic in all her glory.

"It is hard to believe we are on the same ship, isn't it, Father?"

Taking in the luxury that surrounded them now, Matthew readily agreed with him.

"Can you imagine how the men on board must have felt ramming into that submarine?" George asked.

Matthew could, but he remained quiet for a long moment in deep thought.

He knew that each and every one of them had wondered if that was the day that they would meet their maker, or worse that they might have to live out the rest of their life maimed or disfigured, perhaps beyond recognition. Adrenaline would have soared through their veins, quickening their heartbeat and heightening their senses as their body readied itself for battle and soon thereafter, the men's mouths would have become dry and palms slick with sweat as anxiety and the feeling of impending doom set in.

Yet he would share none of this knowledge with his or John Bates' son and prayed they would never come to experience what those men had felt firsthand, as he had

"No doubt they felt a myriad of emotions, Son. The uncertainty of what would happen once they rammed the submarine, alone, must have been quite unsettling."

George and JR nodded their heads again as they pondered his response. Then much to Matthew's relief, the topic was dropped as the boys' attention was diverted by the sound of Victoria calling out their names, her excursion to the nail salon apparently over.

Mary and Anna were right behind her, both women smiling broadly at him as they raised their hands with dramatic flair, showcasing red fingernails that were all the rage on both sides of the pond, thanks to Hollywood and London starlets.

"I am assuming that your choosing that particular shade coincides with the surprise you have in store," Matthew said with a sly smile now that he had an inkling as to what his wife was up to.

Her own grin still in place, Mary replied, "Your assumption is correct, and I guess now is as good a time as any to reveal what I have in mind for our last night at sea."

She then went on to say that there would be a dinner dance in the dining saloon later that evening and arrangements had been made for Anna to attend it along with the two of them.

Anna's eyes widened as did her smile for a moment, but then she shook her head. "It is very kind of you to include me in your plans, but I couldn't possibly go. The children need me…and even if they didn't, I don't have a proper dress to wear."

 _She has a point there_ , Matthew thought, wishing there was something he could do to solve the problem at hand. Then reminding himself of how pragmatic his wife was, he knew he didn't have to.

The smug look on her face told him he was right.

"I took it upon myself to address any concerns you would have beforehand," Mary began. "Mrs. McInerney has happily agreed to oversee the children while we are gone, knowing that the tip she will receive at the end of our voyage will reflect our appreciation…and as for your attire, when you return to your cabin, you will find a lovely evening dress hanging in your closet. I hid it in Matthew's wardrobe room until it would be needed and had it moved there while we were having our nails taken care of."

The former maid was speechless for a long moment, and then said, "But what about…How did you know my…?"

"Size?" Mary interjected. "Your husband was kind enough to provide me with that information once you had made your decision to travel with us. He also agreed to keep the dress under wraps with the provision that I have a photograph taken of you wearing it, which I readily agreed to."

Clearly touched by Mary's kind gesture and the effort she had expended on her behalf, Anna's eyes welled with tears. "You've been so kind…I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll come with us," Matthew said. "I think the last time you honored me with a dance was at the Servant's Ball that took place the year you left service. If I remember correctly, I didn't step on your feet and you didn't step on mine, so I'm looking forward to taking another turn around the dance floor with you, Anna, if you will oblige me."

At that the younger generation made their feelings known, the two boys urging her to go and have fun while Victoria, visibly excited by the notion, begged her to take her back to the cabin so that she could see her new dress.

A wide grin spread across Anna's face as she nodded in Victoria's direction and took hold of her hand. Then turning her attention back to Mary, she said, "I gladly accept your invitation and thank you for it."

XX

Getting his first glimpse of Anna in her azure blue evening gown, Matthew's jaw dropped, his reaction coinciding with the blaring sound of the foghorn so precisely that the noise appeared to be coming out of his mouth.

The sight led both women in the room to burst into giggles, with Mary doubling over with laughter and Anna covering her mouth with her hand as she fought to regain her composure.

He narrowed his eyes, feigning annoyance at their outburst for as long as he could manage a straight face and then followed suit, laughing so hard that tears formed in his eyes.

"What are the odds of that happening?" Mary said between guffaws.

Catching his breath, Matthew replied "Considering that blasted horn has been going off every three minutes, I'd say they were quite good. Still…"

He returned his attention to Anna, then and said, "Though I have no doubt your appearance will result in many more men's jaws dropping this evening, I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

She assured him that he had not and thanked him for his compliment before running her hands down over her gown, smoothing out the satin fabric and smiling, clearly pleased with Mary's choice. Then she pushed back a stray lock that had escaped her upswept hair, her fingers resting briefly on the pearl, tear-drop earrings that Mary had lent her.

The dress fit her like a glove, showcasing the hour glass figure that she had hidden for years beneath a dowdy maid's uniform while she was in service and the conservative attire she had worn since she left Downton.

Heads will turn when you enter the room, Anna, and I confess I'm looking forward to seeing it," Mary said. Then, looking her over from head to toe, she added, "I have never seen you look more beautiful. I dare say Mr. Bates' may insist you model the gown for his benefit when you get back home."

Matthew had no doubt he would, and imagined the smile that would spread across the man's face at the sight of his beautiful wife.

Anna thanked Mary for her kind words and reciprocated, "You look as lovely as ever."

Her comment jolted Matthew into action as it dawned on him that he hadn't said a word to his wife about her appearance.

"Darling, I couldn't agree more. As always, you take my breath away."

Mary smiled and thanked him before making her way to the vanity table to retrieve her evening gloves and clutch bag.

Then after taking a final look in the mirror, she turned and said, "Shall we get going?"

The foghorn blasted in response, causing the three of them to laugh again before they headed for the door.

XX

Entering the dining saloon with Mary on one arm and Anna, the other, Matthew felt certain he was the envy of every man in the room. He could feel their eyes on him as he and his lovely companions waited for a steward to take them to their table and hear the unspoken _lucky bastard_ that floated in the air _._

The room looked quite different than it did the night he and Mary had joined Captain Binks for dinner. A good portion of the dining tables had been removed and the remainder were rearranged to form a rectangular border around the empty space allotted to those who wished to trip the light fantastic.

Scanning the room, Matthew saw the band had been set up in one of the private alcoves that had been emptied of its furnishings. Although it appeared to be a bit of a tight squeeze for the musicians and their equipment, the improvised orchestra pit sufficed, especially since this would be a _one night only_ performance.

Focusing on the band, his eyes were drawn to one of its members, a tall, thin man with bright red hair, who was holding a trumpet in his hands. The brass horn gleamed under the overhead lights and Matthew was so mesmerized by it that he hadn't realized that the steward had arrived until Mary cleared her throat and squeezed his forearm to get his attention.

His head was turned half way in response when the trumpeter raised his instrument to his lips and blew into it. The ensuing sound startled a woman seated nearby so badly that she knocked over her water glass and the contents of the cut crystal spilled rapidly into the lap of the man sitting next to her.

The doused passenger gasped and rose quickly from his seat with his linen napkin in hand. Then he put it to quick use, dabbing furiously at his soaked trousers while doing his best to control his agitation over his predicament.

The hapless woman, eager to redeem herself, took up her napkin and began blotting the man's thigh, causing him to jump back in horror, while the remainder of the passengers at their table hid behind their own linen squares in order to hide their amusement.

Matthew felt his mouth twitch and turned to Mary to see if she found the scene taking place as humorous as he did but she had tastefully averted her eyes away from the ruckus as well as him. Fully composed, she gazed at a centerpiece on a nearby table as though the room was tranquil.

Though when she did meet his eyes, hers were alight with glee.

He didn't dare look at Anna, since he found her sense of humor mirrored his own and knew they would not be able to contain their hilarity if he did.

The steward, too, had been distracted by the commotion and put his duties on hold until the aggrieved passenger finally stormed out of the room, at which point he sighed and got back to the business at hand.

"Your table is ready, Mr. Crawley," he said as though he had just arrived. "Please follow me."

Matthew motioned for Mary and Anna to take the lead behind the stout, young fellow who would show them to their seats. Then they made their way in a neat line in order to fit through the narrow aisles between the tables.

Over 100 feet long and able to seat 500 passengers, space in the saloon was tight tonight due to the large crowd and more limited seating. Matthew scanned the room, knowing that none of the chairs would be filled by the Foyles.

Weaving through the rows at the tail end of the line, he replayed the scene that had taken place earlier confirming as much in his mind.

" _I just learned that the Foyles will not be in the dining hall tonight," Mary announced while adjusting his tie. "Mabel telephoned and said that the mere thought of food made her feel nauseous. No mention of Tony's bad behavior, though, so I am assuming her queasy stomach is due to illness. She did get a bit dizzy when she was about to leave the Writing Room yesterday and I suggested that she see a physician."_

He had told her then that Mabel followed her advice and revealed what he had accidentally overheard the night before in the hospital. Mary's eyes had grown wide when she learned of the pregnancy and then flashed with anger before she flew into a rage, calling Tony expletives he had never heard her utter before for making advances toward her while his wife carried his child.

He only had had a few seconds to respond that he didn't think Tony knew Mabel was pregnant before Anna knocked on the door, putting an abrupt end to their conversation.

Now, as he took his seat beside Mary, he had to admit that although he sympathized with Mabel's predicament, he was glad that she and her husband were not present tonight, no matter what the reason for their absence.

The last couple of days had put a strain on both him and Mary and he was glad that they, as well as Anna, could enjoy their last night on the Olympic without Tony Foyle to remind them of unpleasant memories, past and present.

As they came close to Captain Binks' table, the commander caught sight of them and rose from his seat, stopping the steward that was leading them in his tracks.

Reaching out his hand, he said, "I am very pleased to see you, again, Mr. Crawley… Lady Mary. Doctor Stevens informed me that your son was discharged from the hospital in perfect health, which I'm sure is quite a relief for you both."

"Immense," Matthew replied, smiling broadly at the Captain while gripping his hand. "We could not be more pleased…and are very grateful to the good doctor and his staff for taking such good care of George."

The Captain returned his smile, clearly happy to hear the hospital staff being praised. Then he let go of Matthew's hand and offered it to Mary.

"Thank you, too, Captain, for your kindness and concern throughout our ordeal," she said.

His smile widened at that, and he bowed his head in Mary's direction before his eyes went to Anna.

Seeing the struggle for recognition in the man's eyes, Matthew rushed in to introduce him to the lovely woman standing beside him and his wife.

"Please allow me to introduce you to our traveling companion and dear friend, Mrs. Anna Bates,"

That led to a minute or so of small pleasantries, which included the commander of the ship insisting that both Lady Mary and Mrs. Bates honor him with a dance after dinner. Then he returned to his seat, prompting the steward to move on.

Though the Crawleys would not be dining with the commander of the ship as they had on their second night at sea, they were greeted by First Officer William Murdoch upon their arrival, who rose from his chair with alacrity and bowed to Mary and Anna before introducing himself.

Much younger than his superior, Matthew could not help but notice that the officer looked quite dashing in his navy double-breasted frock jacket with shiny brass buttons and swirled gold lace on the sleeves, signifying his high rank. The rich, dark color suited his fair complexion and the cut of the jacket complimented his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

Since he and Officer Murdoch stood eye level, he judged him to be roughly 6 feet tall and by the fit of his uniform, he could tell that he had a trim but muscular physique beneath it. That didn't surprise him as the initials RNR listed after his name tag indicated he was in the British Royal Navy Reserve and would have had to keep fit to remain a part of it.

Though he appeared to be in his mid-thirties, Matthew found the man had a boyish charm about him, which was on full display when he smiled. It was now as he introduced him to Mary, his cheeks dimpling and steel gray eyes twinkling with delight as he took her hand.

The expression on Murdoch's face made it clear to Matthew that her beauty was not lost on him, and he ended his quick study by concluding that the man had good taste.

The first mate's appreciation of a fine looking woman reached new heights, however, when he was introduced to Anna.

"And this is Mrs. Anna Bates, Officer Murdoch. She is accompanying Lady Mary and me to Newport and then on to Chicago to the World's Fair."

An awkward silence ensued as the first mate stared at Anna and she began to blush, the color rising in her cheeks until they were bright pink.

Taking note of her discomfort, Mary came to the rescue, blurting out, "Mrs. Bates and her husband own a hotel in Yorkshire."

That jolted him out of his trance, and finding his manners, he acknowledged Mary's declaration with a nod of his head and a smile. Then he began introducing the other passengers that sat at their table, beginning with Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael, an elderly couple who were returning to New York after having spent a month in Scotland visiting their granddaughter and her husband.

It became apparent to Matthew early on that Mr. Carmichael was hard of hearing, his impairment necessitating that he must speak quite loudly in order for the man to hear him.

He shook his hand while nearly shouting, "I am very pleased to meet you," before moving on to his wife, who bowed her head graciously in his direction with a look of gratitude in her eyes and a warm smile.

It also became apparent to Matthew that although Mary's impromptu remark had put an end to the awkward moment between Anna and the first officer, it also laid the groundwork for him to begin conversing with her, and the man quickly built upon that foundation.

"Where is your hotel in Yorkshire, Mrs. Bates? I have spent a good deal of time there and find the landscape quite lovely," he began.

 _That isn't all he finds quite lovely_ , Matthew told himself, grasping Mary's hand beneath the cover of the tablecloth and giving it a gentle squeeze. She gave him a covert look of understanding as she brought her hand out from under the table and reached for her wine glass.

He then made the acquaintance of the Baron and Baroness of Northbrook, who appeared unpleased with their seating arrangement until they learned they were sharing the table with the Earl of Grantham's daughter.

Finally, Office Murdoch presented Mrs. Oliver Stiles and her nephew, Malcolm, with the older woman volunteering that she lived in Chicago and looked forward to returning there in time to enjoy the World's Fair before it came to an end.

Introductions complete, Matthew took his seat and reached for his wine glass. As the fine Merlot trickled down his throat, he overheard the first officer gushing that the color of Anna's gown matched the hue of her beautiful eyes and he braced himself for another eventful evening aboard the Olympic.

XX

By 9:00 P.M., many of the passengers in the dining hall were on their feet, swaying to the band's rendition of" For All We Know", a song made popular by jazz artist Isham Jones and his orchestra. Matthew had heard it before and quite enjoyed the musical arrangement. However, it was the lyrics that struck a chord with him now as he suspected this wasn't the first time Officer Murdoch had become smitten with a stranger on their last night at sea.

Seeing the first mate and Anna glide past their table, he noticed that the man was serenading his dance partner while the saxophonist belted out the lyrics,

"For all we know, we may never meet again

Before you go make this moment sweet again

We won't say "Goodnight" until the last minute

I'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it"

As the instrumental interlude began, Mary lamented "I'd like to honor Mr. Bates' wish by providing him with a photograph of Anna in her new gown, but I doubt he will want one that includes Officer Murdoch in it."

Matthew snorted. "I doubt he would want a photograph of her in Captain Binks' arms either… or one with that widowed American banker who keeps cutting in on all her dance partners…most recently me," he said with a note of indignation in his voice.

"He definitely would not," Mary agreed and then let out a sigh of frustration, "I guess I'll have to wait until the band takes a break to summon the photographer."

 _A wise move,_ he though as he followed his wife's line of vision, catching sight of the handsome couple smiling brightly at one another before they were lost behind one of the white pillars that were spread throughout the room.

Seeing Anna appear so carefree, Matthew couldn't help but smile, too. Yet, he knew that if Bates could see her now, it would break his heart, as it would be a reminder of what she had given up in order to share her life with him.

He had never given it much thought before because he knew how devoted Anna was to her husband and she appeared content with her life, but seeing her like this, he could not deny how much she had missed over the years because of her marriage. By her own admission, she had not danced since she left service at Downton, and he did not have to think hard to conclude why she hadn't.

It led to him pondering the life the Bates led and the limitations they were faced with in order to share it.

 _Due to John Bates' affliction, the couple would never be able to share a dance or walk hand in hand on a wooded trail or sandy beach, and though they could take in the beauty of the ocean side by side, they would never be able to frolic in it together_.

Matthew wondered if Bates ever had tried to discourage Anna 's romantic interest in him and that led him to a day long gone by when he had told Mary that if she were not engaged, he would have stayed clear of her.

He was paralyzed from the waist down and had resigned himself to being "the cat who walked by himself" as Rudyard Kipling put it. Though in his case, that cat would have had to crawl.

Unable to walk and impotent, the thought of any woman being saddled with him, especially one he loved, was unthinkable.

Yet it hadn't been to Mary. She had asked him how he would respond to a woman who wanted to be with him no matter his disability and he had made it clear that he would reject them, suspecting that the woman she was referring to was herself.

On more than one occasion, he had pondered what he would have done if Mary had pressed the issue, revealed her true feelings and insisted she could not be happy without him. Loving her as he did, would he have been able to keep her at arm's length if he were convinced her happiness depended on him?

He suspected that Anna had echoed his wife's words and more in order to convince Bates to let down his guard and let her in. The bottom line being his mangled leg didn't matter to her nor did their age difference. She had decided that he would be the only man she would ever love and that was all there was to it.

Just as he had known that he could not be happy with any other woman as long as Mary walked the earth.

"Excuse me, Mr. Crawley," the table steward said, carrying an ornate silver champagne bucket with a magnum of Dom Perignon on ice. "Compliments of Captain Binks, Sir."

Taking in the vintage on the label, Matthew's eyes widened with delight and he turned his head in search of the commander. Finding him eyeing the proceedings from his seat, he smiled broadly at him and tipped his head in thanks before motioning for the steward to serve the sparkling wine.

He obliged him by removing the cage that enclosed the cork and grasping hold of it with one hand, he gripped the base of the bottle with the other. Then pointing the magnum away from any of the passengers, he slowly turned the base until the soft pop of the cork could be heard.

No novice to the task at hand, he then poured about an inch of wine into each glass in order to avoid the foamy overflow, and once the fizzing subsided, filled them just below the rim.

As the last glass was topped, Anna and Officer Murdoch returned to the table with their faces flushed from exertion. Taking notice of the frosted champagne glasses that lined the table, they both smiled as they took their seats.

The first mate's demeanor made it clear to Matthew that the man felt confident that he would not be returning to his cabin alone once the festivities had ended and he thought that might be the case. He had considerable charms and there were many women traveling alone who might succumb to them, especially after imbibing a glass or two of the bubbly.

However, he would stake Downton Abbey that Anna Bates wasn't one of them.

Knowing as much, he gave considerable thought to the toast he would make before he raised his champagne glass in the air. Then his eyes swept the table, landing on Officer Murdoch as he began to speak.

" _"May you have the hindsight to know where you've been,_ _  
_ _The foresight to know where you are going,_ _  
_ _And the insight to know when you have gone too far."_

It was no accident that he delivered the last line while locking eyes with the first mate, and he could tell the man knew that it wasn't as his face grew red.

Mary made the next toast, smiling broadly at Anna as she raised her glass and said, "To my dear friend and clearly the belle of the ball…May the smile that graced your lips tonight remain long after it ends."

Anna began to protest Mary's declaration, but her objection was cut short by Officer Murdoch who ignoring the last line of the toast, refused to retreat and made it clear that he was in full agreement with Lady Mary's assessment.

Rolling his eyes, Matthew leaned toward his wife and said softly, "Darling, as far as I'm concerned, you are and always will be the bell of the ball."

Mary tipped her glass to him and smiled before taking a sip of champagne, the bubbles rising from the glass tickling her nose.

"I'm sorry but you need to speak up, Mr. Crawley," Mr. Carmichael croaked from across the table. "Did you say someone took a fall?"

Matthew was about to reply, when he heard Anna bemoaning to Mary, "Bell of the ball or not, I cannot wait to return to my cabin to soak my feet. They're killing me."

At that, he stifled a guffaw and said loudly, "No, Mr. Carmichael. No one has taken a fall..." Then turning his attention once more to officer Murdoch, he said, "…but I think someone is about to."

XX

"It was her, wasn't it?" Mary asked her husband," after she had thanked and dismissed Mrs. McInerney for the night. "I could swear that I saw Lady Caroline dancing with that American banker that kept cutting in on you as we were leaving."

Matthew nodded and smiled. "Yes, it was her, batting her eyelashes with renewed vigor at the banker. I caught sight of Lord Hayes, too, and he was grinning from ear to ear."

"Hmmm….I wonder if his jubilance was due to the wealthy widower paying attention to his daughter or his second serving of cherries jubilee having arrived," she quipped, throwing her wrap over the nearest armchair.

Anna, appearing as though she were ready to drop, let out a soft giggle, thanked them both for a lovely evening and headed off to her cabin to tend to her swollen feet.

Matthew's feet ached, too, though not nearly as much as his back did. The band had been excellent and their music so lively, that he couldn't resist spinning Mary around the floor time and time again, as well as Anna when he got the chance.

Now he was paying dearly for his exuberance.

A hot soak in a tub would help, but he couldn't muster enough energy to get to it and fell straight into bed once Mary had helped him undress.

Hearing him wince, she said, "Honestly, darling, whatever possessed you to think you could do a j _itterbug_ and remain unscathed?"

He hesitated a moment, giving his wife's question serious consideration, and then replied, "The second glass of champagne got me out on the floor and the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down in your gown kept me there."

She burst into laughter and gave him a playful swat before asking him if he could turn onto his stomach without assistance so she could massage his back.

It was painful to do so, but he managed it and in a few moments let out a long sigh of relief as she began to work her magic.

Deftly kneading the space between his shoulders, she said, "I know you are exhausted, but am hoping you can stay awake long enough for us to discuss what we are going to do about the Foyles. It was a blessing not having to deal with them tonight, but we will likely run into them tomorrow and need to be on the same page."

"I suppose we'll have to find a way to act as though nothing is amiss until we are clear of them," he replied and paused before adding, "It won't be easy, but we must if Mabel is to be kept in the dark."

Mary was quiet for a long moment while she continued her ministrations. Then she said, "Your point is well taken and I'm in agreement with you. No matter how much I'd like to see Tony squirm, Mabel's well-being, and that of her unborn child, are what is most important."

"Thank you, darling," Matthew muttered into his pillow. "I'd kiss you if it were possible."

She leaned down and planted a peck on the back of his neck and told him he could make up for it in the morning.

"I am looking forward to it," he said.

Then the foghorn blasted for what seemed like the 100th time.

Turning his head toward the window with a grunt, Matthew saw that the white mist was so thick that the glass had become opaque.

"I don't think I've ever seen a fog remain this dense for such a long period of time," he said, the tone of his voice apprehensive.

Mary's massage came to a halt and she rose from the bed and went to the door.

"Darling, don't…you won't be able to see anything. It is like pea soup out there," Matthew cautioned.

"Don't worry, I won't venture away from the door," she replied, opening it slowly and keeping her hand on the frame as she stepped over the threshold.

Stepping onto the deck, Mary looked up and l said, "Oh my…I've never seen anything like this."

Beams of moonlight normally invisible in the clear air were given substance by the fog, creating spectacular rays of incandescent light that shone down over the ocean.

Matthew attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed to see what all the fuss was about, but his back began to spasm and he let out a wail, the sound effectively putting an end to Mary's enchantment with the lunar display.

Quickly, she climbed into bed beside him and began to apply pressure to his lower back. "I'll work that kink out. Just try to relax, darling," she said softly.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling his tense muscles begin to unravel beneath his wife's hands. Reveling in Mary's touch, he closed his eyes and sank down into the plush mattress, happily on his way to slumber land

Then the foghorn moaned again, jolting him back into consciousness.

And he moaned along with it.

XX

 **AN: I would imagine many of you thought I abandoned this story since it has been so long since I posted my last chapter, but I haven't. Unfortunately, since that time, my husband was diagnosed with Stage 3 Myeloma, a blood cancer that forms tumors in your bones. The last month has been a nightmare.**

 **I have longed to escape from the reality of the situation and found my story is a way to do it.**

 **Having said that, though I have no idea what is to come next in real life, I do know where Matthew and Mary are headed and am looking forward to writing my next chapter.**

 **My hope is that you will stay with me, even though the chapters may take a while for me to finish. I have a good deal more in store for Matthew, Mary and many others at Downton Abbey.**

 **Finally, thank you to those who have left a review, you have my heartfelt thanks. Please keep them coming.**


	8. Chapter 8

_"Darling, don't…you won't be able to see anything. It is like pea soup out there," Matthew cautioned._

 _"Don't worry, I won't venture away from the door," she replied, opening it slowly and keeping her hand on the frame as she stepped over the threshold._

 _Stepping onto the deck, Mary looked up and l said, "Oh my…I've never seen anything like this."_

 _Beams of moonlight normally invisible in the clear air were given substance by the fog, creating spectacular rays of incandescent light that shone down over the ocean._

 _Matthew attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed to see what all the fuss was about, but his back began to spasm and he let out a wail, the sound effectively putting an end to Mary's enchantment with the lunar display._

 _Quickly, she climbed into bed beside him and began to apply pressure to his lower back. "I'll work that kink out. Just try to relax, darling," she said softly._

 _He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling his tense muscles begin to unravel beneath his wife's hands. Reveling in Mary's touch, he closed his eyes and sank down into the plush mattress, happily on his way to slumber land_

 _Then the foghorn moaned again, jolting him back into consciousness._

 _And he moaned along with it_

XX

 **VIII**

May 15th, 1934

Barring illness or the rare instances when he suffered a hangover, Matthew's internal clock woke him promptly at 6:00 a.m., no matter what time he fell asleep the night before or where he had laid his head to rest.

That is, when he rose in the same time zone.

As of late, his silent alarm had been rendered useless, however, due to the ship's clocks being set back an hour each night to accommodate the changes in time as it crossed the Atlantic.

It wasn't so bad on sunny days when bright rays of light shone through the bedroom window, making it clear that morning had arrived as well as enabling him to read the clock on the nightstand near his bed. He had no such luck now, however, since the fog that blanketed the ship left him in the dark regarding the time as well as where his spectacles lay.

Feeling Mary's side of the bed empty and hearing no sound of her rustling about the room, Matthew also was in the dark regarding his wife's whereabouts. That propelled him into action and he cautiously swung his legs off the side of the bed and sat upright.

No stabbing pain ensued and he smiled, attributing his improved condition to Mary's ministrations the night before. Thanks to her, all that he felt now was some stiffness in his lower back that no doubt would subside once he got moving.

 _Which will require light,_ he told himself as he fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand.

Finding it, he ran his hands over the base until he reached the switch and turned it on, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow.

"Aha…there is where I put my spectacles," he said, reaching for the leather case that they rested in and putting his eyeglasses to good use.

The impediments to his sight resolved, he discovered it was half past five, quite early for his wife to be up and about. That led him to believe that she, too, was having difficulty adjusting to the time changes, and he thought she might appreciate some company, wherever she had gone off to.

Toward that end, he donned his robe and slippers, returned his spectacles to their case and made his way out of the bedroom in search of Mary, treading lightly from one room to another so as not to disturb the children.

By process of elimination, along with the distinct sound of the shower running, he concluded Mary was in the bathroom and padded down the hallway to join her.

Though he arrived quickly at his destination, all sound in the room had ceased by then. Still, a stream of light flowing from beneath the door led him to believe that she might still be inside.

"Mary…Mary, are you in there?" he said in a hushed tone, his body leaning heavily on the door with his lips pressed against the jam.

Hearing no response, he began tapping lightly on the thick, paneled oak, his knuckles beating a tattoo in sync with his wife's name.

After what he considered an inordinately lengthy amount of time had passed in silence, he began to wonder if something might be wrong and pressed his ear to the door in search of any sound.

Without warning, it flew open and Matthew fell forward, toppling into the room.

What the…," Mary sputtered, jumping back to avoid her husband from crashing into her.

Righting himself as quickly as possible, he apologized for his clumsy entrance. Then, taking in Mary's appearance, a devilish smile formed on his lips.

She was wrapped in a white bath towel that left little to the imagination as it clung to her still damp skin and her hair spilled over her bare shoulders and down her back in soft waves.

Matthew looked her over slowly from head to toe with appreciation and his desire soon became evident.

"Don't even think about it," Mary hissed, her hand grasping a firm hold on the towel that was twisted in a knot at her breasts and retreating a few steps. "The children will be awake any minute."

He frowned and let out a long sigh of frustration, knowing that she was right. The hallway behind him might be empty now, but he suspected it was only a matter of time before either his and Mary's offspring or Anna's would come barreling down it.

"Darling, I'm afraid that I can't help but think about it… not when you look so alluring…but you have my word that no matter how much it pains me…and it does… I won't act upon my thoughts, as I agree we could very well have company soon."

Mary looked into his eyes, her own filled with pity and longing in equal measure. Then she poked her head out of the bathroom and finding the corridor clear, grabbed hold of his hand and led him quickly to their bedroom.

Once there, she locked the door behind them and asked, "Is your back feeling better?"

He smiled and closed the distance between them, nudging her hand from the towel and tugging at it until it fell to the floor.

"Much," he replied and pulled her into his arms.

He first claimed her lips, kissing her thoroughly before moving his mouth down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of moist heat on her skin. Then he slid his hands down her back until they reached her buttocks and he gripped her taught bottom, anchoring her in place.

Working together, they managed to remove his robe and pajamas quickly, and without breaking their embrace, edged their way over to the bed and fell over like a tree cut down in the forest.

Entwined, they bounced as they hit the mattress, and began to laugh. Then after a few moments, they grew quiet as Mary straddled him and got down to the business at hand.

Whether due to their spontaneity or the fact that they both knew time was of the essence, Matthew found their desire was heightened and lovemaking as intense as it had been on their honeymoon.

Under what he considered excellent circumstances, it was difficult for him to not cry out in ecstasy, but he knew he must not as there could be a knock at the door at any moment. As his passion mounted, he bit his lip hard in order to remain quiet, nearly drawing blood.

Mary had managed to do the same thus far, but at the climactic moment, she could hold back no longer and let out a long moan.

Her outburst was followed by the sound that Matthew had expected and dreaded as he heard a loud knock on their bedroom door, followed by the knob jiggling back and forth and Victoria's anxious voice.

"Mother…Mother, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"

Shaking her head like a wet dog that has been hosed down, Mary took a deep breath and composed herself. "I'm fine, Victoria. I just… stubbed my toe, that's all…and your father is helping me with the…with the swelling. Give us a minute and we'll be out."

Matthew began to chuckle, but his laughter was quickly stifled by his wife's hand clamping down over his mouth while she shot him daggers with her eyes.

Relative silence ensued for the next few moments, the only sound in the room emanating from Mary as her breathing slowed to its normal rhythm and his muffled protests at being gagged.

Then Victoria's voice rang out loud and clear. "I do hope you will follow your own advice, Mother, and look where you are going from now on. My schoolmate, Sadie Thompson, told me her mother broke her foot when she banged it into a side table while chasing her baby brother and she had to wear some awful looking shoe until it healed…I think you would hate having to do that."

Mary's mouth twitched as she stared into her husband's eyes, her own now alight with amusement.

"I most certainly would, and in order to prevent such a debacle, I am going to make it a point to be much more careful in the future," she replied.

At that, Matthew removed his wife's hand from his mouth and suggested Victoria see what JR and her brother were up to.

"They surely must be awake by now, sweetheart. Your mother will be fine. I'll take good care of her."

That did the trick, and in a split second he could hear Victoria stomping down the hallway as she called out the boys' names.

"Well, if they weren't awake, they are now," Matthew said, grinning as he pushed a strand of Mary's hair behind her ear.

She laughed, then leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips and said, "That's for taking such good care of me."

XX

Learning from Victoria that her mother had injured her foot, Anna offered to take her and the boys to breakfast so that Mary could get some rest. However, upon paying her former employer a visit to advise her of the plan and offer her assistance, she found Mary completely recovered from her injury and highly amused by her daughter's description of it.

"But Victoria said you were moaning in pain. Was she exaggerating?" Anna said, clearly nonplussed.

Mary rolled her eyes and then chuckled. "No, she wasn't. She did hear me cry out and I told her that I stubbed my toe, but…"

Anna stood in the threshold of the doorway as she waited to hear the rest, then getting a glimpse of the time on the clock, interjected, "I don't mean to rush you but if I don't leave soon, the children and I will miss the first seating in the dining saloon. Are you saying that you did not stub your toe?"

Color rose to Mary's cheeks and she spouted, "I told Victoria that I had to cover for the true reason I was moaning, which had nothing to do with pain, if you get my meaning."

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop, but when it did, Anna's face flushed. "I believe I do," she replied, appearing mollified. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to pry."

Insisting there was nothing to forgive, Mary thanked Anna for her kind offer and told her to hurry before she was late.

"Matthew and I will have breakfast at one of the eateries and meet you back here later."

"Did I hear my name….," was all the future earl managed to say before Anna collided into him in her hasty exit.

"Ow!," she cried out, bringing her hand to her nose.

Mary was at her side in a split second. "Are you bleeding, Anna?" she asked anxiously.

Removing her hand and finding it dry, the former maid shook her head back and forth. Then her eyes darted from her benefactors to the clock on the nightstand, and with her nose now as red as her cheeks, she turned and took flight.

"Are you positive you are alright, Anna?" Matthew asked. "I'm dreadfully sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Anna said over her shoulder as she raced down the hall. "I should have been looking where I was going."

Hearing the admonition for the second time that morning, Mary chortled.

"What the devil is going on?" Matthew asked, looking thoroughly confused.

"I'll tell you at breakfast," Mary replied. "Right now, I need to get dressed and do something with my hair."

He nodded and got out of her way quickly, grateful that the two of them would be able to spend more time alone together.

During the last couple of hours, he felt as though they were on a second honeymoon and wasn't ready to let go of that feeling.

Not just yet.

XX

Matthew had suggested the Veranda Café might be a good place to eat since it was one of the restaurants he and Mary had not frequented yet, and she readily had agreed. They had passed it often when strolling along the promenade on A-Deck, catching a glimpse of its lush interior through the large bay windows.

The room was light and airy with a beautiful trellised décor and cane furniture. Adding to its appeal, if you were fortunate enough to be seated at a table near one of the windows, you had a birds-eye view of the ocean while you ate your meal.

Even though Matthew knew that view was now obscured, he had reserved a window table for two at 10:30 with the hope the fog would finally lift.

Now on their way there, he was so famished that he could hear his stomach grumbling over the clacking sound of his and Mary's heels on the wooden planks, and judging by the apologetic look on her face, she heard it, too.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to dress, Matthew. Getting my hair to stay in place in this weather proved to be a monumental task," she said. Then pushing back a stray lock that had escaped its bounds, proving her point, she added, "I'd say let's pick up the pace, but I'm worried one of us, or both, might take a spill, considering how slick the deck is."

"You don't need to apologize, darling, and I agree that we need to watch our step. Otherwise, we might find ourselves in the hospital when the ship docks, and I, for one, have spent more than enough time there already.

"Bite your tongue," Mary exclaimed, tightening her grip on his arm.

Then the two of them stopped short as a series of vibrations swept through the ship.

Guiding Mary to the wall for support, Matthew felt another tremor and wrapped his arm around her.

"What is happening, Matthew?" she asked anxiously.

Having a good idea, he quickly responded, "I've felt this before during the war when crossing the channel. It happens when the ship's engines change settings…from forward to reverse, for example."

"But why would the ship…?" she began and stopped midstream.

He knew why she did, too, as he had felt the same jarring sensation that diverted her. Nothing drastic, but definitely enough to make you take notice. It reminded him of how he felt when his AC had hit a bump in the road, and the memory made him uneasy.

The jolt was quickly followed by the sound of five short blasts from the Olympic and a loud "Woot" coming from somewhere off the starboard bow.

"Five blasts mean…," Matthew began but was pre-empted by Tony Foyle, who was racing past him and Mary along with a handful of men in uniform toward the sound of the alarm.

"Danger," he cried out over his shoulder.

At that, Mary begin to tremble and he pulled her closer, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Don't let your mind run away with you, darling. We don't know enough yet to be worried."

She nodded and stepped back a few steps, turning toward the sound of stomping feet and chatter as curious passengers and members of the Olympic's crew poured out onto the deck.

Matthew caught sight of one of the ship's officers in close range and called out to him, asking if he could shed any light on the situation at hand.

"All that I can say with certainty is that Captain Binks has ordered the bulkhead doors be closed, Sir. I'm sorry that I can't tell you any more than that. I'm on my way to the bridge right now to be brought up to speed and get my orders."

At that, Mary gave him an anxious look that made it clear she felt they knew enough to worry now.

He was worried, too, since the information the officer had provided made it clear that the ship had been involved in collision. That would be the only reason the watertight doors would have been ordered closed.

Yet, he did his best to not let it show and thanked the man for sharing what he knew.

The crewman tipped his head and then took off at a fast clip, weaving through the small clusters of men and women that had gathered and were now busily engaged in speculation.

Violet's words rang in his ears as he recalled her conversation with him regarding the possibility of the Olympic meeting Titanic's fate. He had used "the _odds of it" when_ making his case, insisting that a disaster at sea couldn't possibly strike the Crawleys twice.

Recalling how Mary's grandmother had won that argument, a wave of anxiety flowed through his body.

Then logic overrode emotion.

 _Get a grip on yourself, for God's sake. You just to told Mary not to let her mind run away with her and here you are doing it. You know that the ship was modified to correct the mistakes that led to the Titanic sinking. Even if we did hit something, that doesn't mean the Olympic is going down._

 _It isn't happening again!_

His anxiety assuaged and head clear, he proceeded to assess the situation.

The doors likely had been closed as a precautionary measure. If the ship had been damaged severely in the collision, the passengers would have been notified to don their life jackets and report to their assigned emergency stations.

They were not.

That was good.

He let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived as the acrid smell of oil reached his nostrils, causing his nose to scrunch up with distaste. The foul odor permeated the air, which he noticed was now deadly still.

"Mary, does it feel as though the ship has come to a full stop to you?"

Rooted in place, she pondered his question for a long moment and then nodded in agreement. "It does feel as though we aren't moving any longer." Then sniffing the air like a bloodhound, she exclaimed, "And what is that dreadful smell?"

Matthew was about to reply but his attention was diverted by the sound of a man barking commands loud enough to be heard above the hubbub that surrounded them.

"I want the starboard lifeboat manned and lowered into the water, Mr. Davies," Officer Murdoch shouted. "Get your crew together and move quickly…there may be survivors, but they won't last long in this frigid water. There is no time to spare.

Mr. Cooper, the portside lifeboat has already been lowered but Captain Binks wants one of the motorboats launched. Get on it, man, and then report back to me."

Mr. Watson…Mr. Harris…we need flares, as many as you can get your hands on …and whistles…bring them to me here and I'll have them dispersed to the crew at the rails. Make haste men. Lives are at stake."

Though it was clear to Matthew that the first officer was well-informed, it was also clear he had his hands full at the moment and he decided it was best to not trouble him with any questions. Murdoch would likely bite anyone's head off who interrupted his delegation of duties, and considering the circumstances, he wouldn't blame him if he did.

Leaving the man to his work, he turned to Mary, who he found transfixed by Officer Murdoch's rapid-fire commands.

"Let's go to the rail, darling," he said, grasping her hand in his. "Perhaps we will be able to see or hear something useful."

She nodded slowly, then broke out of her trance, motioning for Matthew to lead the way.

"Excuse me…Sorry…Beg your pardon," Matthew said over and over again, as he maneuvered his way through the melee on deck toward the railing.

It had filled quickly with men and women searching for answers and he eyed the line to find an opening that they could squeeze into.

"There's one, " he said to Mary, guiding her to a spot between a short, stout man with a moustache and much taller one with red hair that was slicked back with pomade.

They both tipped their heads to them in greeting, the red-haired chap moving a few inches to give Mary more room. Then all heads turned in unison toward the creaking sound that emanated from the starboard lifeboat station as the emergency vessel was lowered into the water.

His eyes fixed on the men in the boat, Matthew could see that the crewmen were raring to go, their demeanor reminiscent of a thoroughbred awaiting the gate to rise at the Derby, and no sooner had the small craft hit the water, than the oars were in. Then moving in harmony under the directive of the officer at the helm, it quickly disappeared into the miasma.

"Look!" shouted a young man wearing a cap down the line, pointing his finger down and to his left.

Matthew followed his direction and saw debris floating in the water. As close as it was to the ship, he could clearly see a white hatch being swept along by the current, followed by some large jagged pieces of wood, a broken piece of railing and a variety of kitchen bric-a-brac. Then he saw a red buoy with tall letters sprawled across it.

"N…A…N…," he muttered to himself.

"Nantucket," came from behind him in a deep male voice that he readily recognized. "It is the marker for the lightship that the Olympic hit."

He hadn't heard Tony approaching with all the ruckus going on, and under normal circumstances would have kept to his plan and given him the cold-shoulder. However, this was not a normal circumstance. Not by a long shot.

Without preliminaries, he said, "I would appreciate your telling us everything you know."

Tony nodded, his eyes fixed on the wall of white vapor that the lifeboat had vanished into and not veering from it as he filled in the blanks quickly and concisely. The Olympic had miscalculated the lightship's radio beacon as it guided her through the Nantucket shoals and by the time the vessel was spotted, couldn't avoid hitting it. The ocean liner they stood on, which he estimated to be 75 times larger than the lightship, cut it clean in half.

Mary gasped and Matthew pulled her closer to him as Tony went on speaking.

"Binks had the bulkhead doors closed as soon as he heard the Nantucket's collision alarm go off… and he got the rescue boats in the water in record time." He paused then, shaking his head in dismay, "My heart goes out to him, as no matter he did all he could, this will weigh heavily on him. He will blame himself."

"We need more flares, here," rang in the air to their right and the three of them turned toward the sound in unison. "I don't want our men to lose their way back to the ship in this blasted fog…Move those passengers out of the way, Mr. Harris."

Not surprisingly, the order came from First Officer Murdoch, who now stood about ten feet away, motioning a handful of men under his command toward him. "I want to hear those whistles blowing nonstop… Nonstop, do you hear? If they can't see us, you men damned well better make sure they hear us.

Tony shook his head and sighed. "He has a heavy weight on his shoulders." Then looking about the deck at the crewmen in action, he added, "They all do. That ship went down fast, and if there are any survivors, they won't last long out there. The water is brutally cold.

The guarded expression that took shape on Matthew's face the moment Tony had arrived softened and he met his eyes. "Thank you for filling us in. I will keep the Nantucket's crew and the Olympic's in my prayers."

"That's all you can do, Matthew… Apparently, that's all any of us can do," he lamented. Then after a brief pause, Tony continued, "I offered Captain Binks my help as I've spearheaded several rescue missions during the war, but he said it was against regulation to have a passenger involved in any way…Still, if I can get my hands on one of those bloody whistles, I doubt any of the crew would stop me from blowing it."

"I don't mean to sound callous, but must ask…," Mary piped in. "What about the Olympic, Tony? Are we in any danger as a result of the collision? It's just…well, the children…," she began and stopped, swallowing hard.

Tony shook his head. "From what I've been told, the hull of the Olympic is a bit scraped, that's all. You have nothing to worry about, Mary. This ship is perfectly sound."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Then I shall leave the children to their breakfast. I don't want to alarm them by interrupting it…and I certainly don't want them up on deck when…"

A woman's scream cut her off midstream.

Turning toward the sound, Matthew found Mrs. Peele, the newlywed that he and Mary had met at the rail on their first day at sea, with her hand clasped over her mouth, leaning heavily on her new husband for support. She appeared as though she were about to faint, and it didn't take him long to realize why as he followed her husband's gaze.

"Mary, don't look down," he said quickly, nudging her away from the railing.

He wished he hadn't and grimaced at the sight of the body he saw floating face down in the water, the lifeless form intermittently bouncing off the side of ship as the current moved it along.

"Get another boat down and bring him up," the first officer roared. "Now!"

Tony cleared his throat and said, "God rest his soul."

"There will likely be more, won't there?" Mary asked in a strangled tone of voice.

"I'm afraid so, darling," Matthew replied, taking a step back to join her. "Now that we know the ship is in no danger, I think it best we return to the suite. Anna is bound to be back with the children by now, wondering what the devil is going on."

She nodded her head, then turned her attention to Tony.

"And what about Mabel? she asked, her voice stronger. "How is she fairing?"

Looking abashed, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "My wife is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. After hours of my groveling for her forgiveness, she begrudgingly pardoned me for my loutish behavior…what she knows of it, that is." He paused then for a long moment, his eyes glazing over as if he were contemplating whether or not he should say more. Then he spurted out, "No doubt her condition played a part in her decision. She just learned she is pregnant, you see… and Mabel would not want our child born into a broken home."

 _Now what do I say?_ Matthew asked himself _. It seems no matter how hard I try to distance myself and Mary from this man, the powers that be keep thrusting him into our lives._

A moment later, Mary came his rescue as she had the night Tony had assailed her, finding the right words in the awkward situation they found themselves in.

"Though we may be estranged, I think I can speak for Matthew when I say we both wish Mabel and you good luck with the new baby."

Tony inclined his head and said, "Thank you, Mary. That is very kind of you." Then he cleared his throat for a second time before he added, "I left Mabel resting in bed as she has been lightheaded. I think I better get back to her now before her curiosity overrides her common sense and she attempts to make it to the deck …patience is not one of her virtues."

Though he was grateful that Mabel's condition was no longer a secret and that Tony had brought him and Mary up to speed regarding the collision, Matthew couldn't help but scoff at his comment regarding Mabel's absent virtue, considering how many the man was lacking, himself.

He bit his tongue and remained silent, however, in lieu of the calamity that they were dealing with and turned to Mary, who had so far navigated their unexpected run in with Tony seamlessly.

"Yes, you should go to her immediately," Mary said with a sense of urgency in the tone of her voice.

At that, he nodded his head, took one last look over the railing, and apparently finding nothing gruesome, turned on his heels and headed toward his and Mabel's cabin.

XX

No sooner had Matthew stepped into the suite than Victoria jumped off Anna's lap and ran towards him with tears in her eyes, shouting, ""Papa….Papa…Are we all to drown?"

She hadn't called him "Papa" for years as it made for less confusion at Downton where that moniker had been claimed decades ago. The fact that she had reverted back to it now told him she was frightened out of her wits.

Looking at Anna with a perplexed expression on his face, Matthew wrapped his arms protectively around Victoria. "Sweetheart…None of us is going into the pool or ocean…Why would you think we are going to drown?"

Anna responded on Victoria's behalf that a woman had rushed into the dining hall screaming at the top of her lungs that the Olympic had hit another ship and they would go down like the Titanic had. An officer had to be called to remove her as her hysterics were causing some of the passengers to panic.

Matthew's face reddened with anger. _The damned fool could have caused a riot._

"Has the Olympic hit something, Father?" George asked in as calm a tone as one could expect from someone who nearly drowned 48 hours earlier.

At that, Mary crossed the room and placed her arm around George, who appeared anxious, though he was doing his best to hide it as Matthew comforted their daughter.

"The ship is not sinking," he said emphatically. "The Olympic hit a much smaller vessel…a lightship, sort of a floating lighthouse, if you will, that guides other ships in bad weather. It seems its location was misjudged and by the time the Olympic saw it, it was too late to prevent the collision. There was very little damage to this liner, but the lightship did sink… At the moment, the crew is searching for survivors…I think we should all say a prayer that they succeed in their mission."

George nodded his head and then lowered it, mumbling an invocation under his breath while Victoria raised hers to meet his eyes.

"How awful, Father," she said, swiping tears from her face. I will not stop praying for them until they are found."

"God help them," Anna said softly, moving to JR and pulling him close.

"I will pray, too, Sir," the boy said solemnly.

Victoria then turned to her mother. "I'm sorry that I made a fuss. I just got scared."

Mary replied quickly, "You have nothing to apologize for my darling girl. We all have been scared at one time or another….even your father."

"Even Father?" she said, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes, even me, Victoria. More times than I can count. It is natural to feel fear when you are in danger." He gave his son a sly look then, and added, "Some of us just hide it better than others."

She nodded her head and offered him a weak smile.

Then Anna came up with a distraction.

"Victoria, why don't you and I finish packing? And perhaps you boys would like to play a game or two of chess?"

"I think those are excellent suggestions , Anna," Mary piped in. "And you've reminded me that I, too, have some small items that need to be packed, though the bulk of our belongings has been taken care of by Mrs. McInerney."

George took a step back from his mother and catching JR's eye, jerked his head toward their room.

"Sure," JR said. "Let's go."

Then the two of them were off, both solemn but no longer appearing anxious.

Victoria moved to Anna and cautioned, "We must pack Mickey very carefully so that he isn't damaged when the baggage is tossed about."

The erstwhile maid nodded her head and promised her that she would make sure the mouse arrived in Newport without a scratch. The two of them then proceeded to head out of the room side by side, chatting amiably.

Mid-way, Victoria stopped short, turned her head and asked, "Are you coming, Mother?"

"I'll be there is a minute, sweetheart. I just need a word with your father."

Once Anna and Victoria turned the corner, Mary took hold of Matthew's hand.

"You are going back up on deck, aren't you?

Matthew nodded, "I must, darling. The thought of those men fighting for their life in the water compels me to do something more than pray…even if it is just blowing a whistle at the railing to guide the rescue boats back."

She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then let go of his hand and said, "I expected as much. Just be careful, darling. There are a lot of people jockeying for position up there and if anything were to happen to you…."

He cut her off, "The worst thing that will happen to me is my lips will be sore by the time I return. I promise you I'll be fine…Now, go tend to your packing. I'd like us to be able to get off this blasted ship as soon as she docks."

XX

The deck was still filled with passengers when he returned to it but they were partitioned off from the crewmen who were stationed in a line on both the port and starboard railing. Some men were peering into binoculars, others dropping flares that could float and the remainder blowing whistles in unison under a junior officer's commands.

Matthew roamed the deck in search of Officer Murdoch, thinking he was his best chance of getting his hands on one of those whistles, and he found him on the port side of the ship near the lifeboat station engaged in conversation with a subordinate.

Once the two men parted ways, he approached the first officer cautiously, and it was good thing he did as the man was so deep in thought that he nearly crashed into him.

Then Matthew came straight to the point.

"I have no problem with your filling in a bare spot in the line, but you'll have to ask Officer Crenshaw if he has any extra whistles. If so, you can tell him that I gave you permission to join the men under his command. God knows we need all the help we can get in bringing our men and any survivors they may find back to us. So far, only one boat has returned on the starboard side, carrying a dead crewman from the lightship." He paused then a moment, his face twisted, and then added in an acerbic tone, "You may have heard the collective moan at the rail."

Matthew grimaced. "I wasn't here at the time and am dreadfully sorry to hear it. Let's hope the next boat has more luck…and rest assured, I will follow Officer Crenshaw's commands to the letter."

Murdoch nodded his head and managed a slight smile. "I have no doubt you will, Mr. Crawley. Army infantry, right?" Then without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and headed toward the Bridge.

A few minutes later, Matthew stood next to a swarthy looking seaman, who towered over him and every other man at the rail, appearing at least 6' 5", with a whistle wedged between his thumb and forefinger a few inches from his mouth.

"Blow!" Officer Crenshaw shouted at the top of his lungs.

Matthew did, as long and hard as he could, and didn't stop until her heard the command to.

His eyes fixed on the dense pall of fog as he blew, straining to see any movement in it.

"Blow!" Crenshaw bellowed again.

The piercing sound that followed made Matthew's ears hurt, and he wished the powers that be had thought to give the men ear plugs along with the whistles, but he soldiered on, expelling every bit of air from his lungs before he stopped blowing.

His ears were ringing when he caught sight of one of the rescue boats breaking through the towering wall of mist with five or six men in matching uniforms that were much different than those of the men at the oars. Two of them appeared lifeless and another, who wore civilian clothes, had a bloody bandage wrapped around his head.

Matthew couldn't take his eyes off the man and grimaced upon seeing the rivulets of blood that streamed down the side of his face. He felt a bond with the stranger, having suffered a head injury himself in what felt like a different life.

For a moment, he was back in the London Hospital and Doctor Head was at his bedside informing him of his condition when he first saw him.

"You had a nasty head wound that made it appear blood was coming out of your ear, indicating an internal injury that could easily have killed you. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Blood from a deep gash had just pooled there and then streamed down your face. Head injuries always bleed badly, even when they aren't serious."

Matthew hoped that was the case with this poor chap and said a silent prayer that it was so.

The motorboat wasn't far behind, and he was happy to see that it, too, had some success, spotting a gaunt looking man sitting toward the back of the boat with a thick blanket wrapped around him. Though the humid air was far from cold, Matthew saw that the man was shivering beneath it and felt overwhelmed with pity for him.

 _Poor bastard was probably numb with cold when he was picked up_. _Thank God they found him in time._

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Officer Crenshaw, who was no longer commanding that the men blow, but instead telling them to take a break and pass down the water since the boats were all in. They were to stay at the rail, though, as they would begin again once the survivors were taken out of the boats and they were lowered again. The search was not over yet.

Matthew's mouth felt parched and he was grateful when the water reached him. He took a deep gulp and passed it to the giant at his right, who inclined his head in thanks.

Then he heard Officer Murdoch's voice thundering from the port side lifeboat station.

"Bring those stretchers here. We need to get these men to the hospital as quickly as possible. Their lives depend on it."

 _XX_

Matthew had picked up bits and pieces of conversation between the crewmen during his time at the rail and by the time it ended, he had learned that the three boats had managed to rescue seven of the eleven men that had gone into the water when their vessel was lost, including the captain, who he discovered was the man he saw with his head bandaged.

He relayed this information to Mary and Anna after having spent nearly two hours in the ranks of whistle blowers. Eager for news, the two women had jumped to their feet as soon as he entered the room, with his wife crossing it quickly and throwing her arms around his neck.

"I'm so glad you are back, Matthew," she gushed. "Victoria has been popping her head out of her room every 10 minutes during the last hour to see if you had returned."

"I'll go to her in a minute and stop by to see the boys, too, he said, after planting a kiss on her head. "No doubt they could use a bit of reassurance that all is well…and it is for all of us, really." He paused then and sighed before he continued. "As for the lightship's crew, though I have no doubt Doctor Stevens will do all he can to keep them alive, I've learned from experience that a much higher power than he will have the final say in the matter."

Mary took a step back and eyed him over. "You look exhausted, Matthew…and you must be famished. All I can offer you now is tea and biscuits, but I can have a proper meal delivered quickly. Just let me know what you would like."

"It may sound odd considering my appetite, but though I haven't eaten a morsel of food since I woke this morning, I find I'm not hungry at all."

Mary frowned. "Well, if you won't eat, at least lie down and get some rest after you've spoken to the children."

His wife's suggestion was tempting as he felt drained of energy. However, he had planned on stopping by the hospital in an hour or so to see how the survivors were fairing and told her as much.

He couldn't get the image of the captain of the lighthouse ship out of his head, the injured man sitting stoically in the lifeboat with his back as straight as an arrow while blood poured down his face, and he was eager to learn the status of his condition.

"I do feel tired, darling…but there will be plenty of time for me to sleep later. I'm sure Rose and Atticus will not mind if any of us turn in early tonight after learning of our ordeal. That is, if they haven't already. The news likely has been transmitted by now and will have made headlines in New York and London by the time we arrive in America."

Mary's eyes widened and she exclaimed, "Papa will be beside himself with worry. You must send him a telegraph to let him know we are all fine before he reads about the incident, Matthew."

An image of Robert choking on his tea as he read, "Titanic's Sister Ship Involved in Tragic Collision" formed in his mind and he nodded quickly.

"I imagine he would be. Don't worry, darling, I'll stop by the purser's office on my way to the hospital and send him a wire straight away."

At that moment, Victoria poked her head around the corner and finding him standing beside Mary, she grinned like a Cheshire cat, then turned back into the hallway and roared, "He's back!"

XX

The three youngsters rushed into the room in a neat row with George in the lead, followed closely by JR and Victoria. So closely, that they nearly toppled over one another when his son stopped short upon reaching him.

Despite his depressed state, Matthew could not help but find the scene comical and his mouth twitched.

It felt good.

George turned and offered an apology to JR, who was in the process of steadying Victoria on her feet, and then came about and addressed him.

Father, has the lightship's crew been rescued?" he asked, the tone of his voice apprehensive but look in his eyes, hopeful.

He saw the same look in Victoria and JR's eyes as their gaze remained fixed on him, and it unnerved him.

The room suddenly felt stifling and Matthew loosened the knot in his tie and spread his shirt collar apart. Then he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and began blotting his face and neck with it.

 _Just tell them,_ his inner voice screamed.

Yet, how could he when the three of them were looking at him with such wide-eyed innocence?

He couldn't bear to see it extinguished, and he knew it would be once they heard the rescue mission was not a complete success.

An uncomfortable silence ensued while he internally debated whether he should reveal the truth. Then, concluding that his best course of action was to cherry pick it, he cleared his throat and the air.

"Seven men were rescued and taken directly to the hospital to be examined, George," he replied in earnest.

 _Technically true._

"Though I'm sorry to say, some sustained injuries."

 _No lie there._

"But they could not be in better hands. Doctor Stevens is an excellent physician."

 _Spot-on._

Pleased with his response and delivery, Matthew smiled inwardly as he watched the children's reaction to the news.

Victoria broke into a wide grin before racing across the room and coming up behind Mary at the table, wrapping her arms around her neck. "You were right, Mother. You said there was a good chance everything would turn out fine and it has."

By the looks of it, JR, too, was happy with the news. The boy flashed him a bright smile and said, "My father told me never to underestimate the power of prayer or the strength of the human spirit."

"Your father is a wise man," Matthew replied, returning the young lad's smile as he caught sight of Anna beaming at her son.

His gaze fell on his own, then, and he took note that though George appeared glad that the men had been rescued, his smile did not reach his eyes.

Still, he nodded his head and thanked him for the good news before taking the biscuit that Victoria was holding out to him and taking a bite out of it. Then he made his way back to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving a few crumbs on the carpet in his wake.

XX

It cost Matthew 12 shillings and sixpence to give his father-in-law the peace of mind of mind of knowing that his family on the Olympic were safe and well. Considering what the wire would accomplish, he considered the sum a mere pittance and smiled broadly at the purser as he handed him payment for the wire that would be sent.

Unfortunately, he found upon making his inquires at the hospital, the men who had been pulled out of the ocean were not as fortunate as he and his family were.

Mrs. Thompson, the nurse who was on duty when he had brought George in, was back at her desk and greeted him warmly, asking him how his son was doing before she addressed his questions.

"It pains me to tell you that we've lost two of them already," she said, her voice a near whisper as the news had still not been made public. "I'm afraid their injuries combined with the onset of hypothermia was too much for them to overcome."

Matthew gulped and shook his head with dismay. "And what of the captain? Was he one of the them?" he asked, bracing himself for her response.

"No, he is still hanging on, though from what I have heard, his head injury is severe. Doctor Stevens is attending to him as we speak."

The news of the captain's condition hit him like a blow to his midsection and he felt his stomach clench along with his heart.

"There are three that are doing quite well, though, Mr. Crawley. A miracle considering what they've been through."

He took a breath and exhaled. "A miracle, indeed," he said. "That is good news, Mrs. Thompson… and I thank you for sharing it with me…as well as the rest."

She told him she was glad to have been of help and then excused herself. "I'm sorry, but I'm needed in the examination room and must get going."

Matthew shook his head and replied, "It is I who must apologize for taking up your time. I'll be off now…No doubt there will be more news by the time we dock…and please tell Doctor Stevens that I am praying for him and the men under his care."

She nodded and smiled before turning on her heels and racing around the corner toward the sound of someone moaning loudly.

He cringed as he heard the man cry out in pain and headed for the door, the pitiful sound following him into the hallway and remaining in his head until he reached the suite, where it was thankfully replaced by the sound of Mary and Anna's chatter.

They were sitting at the table discussing the fate of the lightship crew when he walked into the room but abruptly stopped speaking as soon as they caught sight of him.

Taking a seat beside his wife and Anna for what would likely be the last time before they disembarked the ship, he began to relay the information that Nurse Thompson had provided to him. They took it in with dour expressions on their faces until they learned of the three men who were holding their own.

"At last, some good news," Mary said, placing her hand over his.

"Amen!" Anna piped in.

Then the two women lamented the loss of those who didn't survive as well as the loved ones they left behind.

"I will never forget how I felt when Papa told me you had been killed in a collision on your way home from the hospital the day George was born. If it weren't for the baby needing me…," she trailed off, unable to continue and dabbing at her eyes.

Matthew reached over and grasped her free hand in his, giving it a shake. "You made it through, darling, and hopefully they will, too."

Though the atmosphere in the room was somber, he found it was made lighter by their camaraderie. Sorrow shared was easier to bear. He had learned that when his father died.

"God willing, the four that are still living will recover completely," Anna said.

"God willing," he and Mary echoed in unison.

The room turned silent then, so quiet that Matthew could hear the low humming sound of the ship's engines, which he hadn't noticed until that moment. That, and there was no familiar noise floating down the hallway.

"What are the children up to? There is hardly a peep coming out of their rooms."

Mary responded that George was reading and JR teaching Victoria how to play chess.

Matthew's eyebrow's rose. "Really? She has never shown any interest in chess before. In fact, I've offered to explain the game to her on several occasions, but each time I did, she shook her head and fled the room."

"I wouldn't take her change of heart personally, darling. You know she adores spending time with you."

He did know and was grateful that was the case as he enjoyed every moment he and Victoria shared. She was a bright, sweet child that never failed to bring a smile to his face, even when she was adamant about getting her own way. He would sometimes have to turn away when she dug her heels in as she reminded him so much of Mary that he must hide his amusement.

His mind's eye conjured up a scene from a day long gone by when Victoria, then a precocious five-year old, insisted she be allowed to walk Horus without supervision. The dog outweighed her substantially and had knocked her over more than once in his attempt to show her affection, but none of that mattered to her.

" _Horus is my dog, too,"_ she had shouted, refusing to give up his leash.

Robert had stepped in after his own cajoling and threat of punishment had failed and Victoria proceeded to give him a merry chase with Horus in tow before Mr. Carson blocked them in the dining room on their second turn around the table with a look that stopped her in her tracks.

A second vision was taking shape in his head when it was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door, and he rose from his seat and opened it.

"The fog is lifting, Mr. Crawley," the steward said with a smile, "and barring any…um… unforeseen circumstances, we should be arriving in New York Harbor before nightfall."

"Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Walsh . I think I can speak for us all when I say, we are looking forward to both the change in weather and our arrival in America."

He then asked the young man to wait a moment and disappeared around the corner, returning quickly with an envelope with the steward's name neatly sprawled across the face of it in his hand.

Extending it to him, Matthew smiled and said, "Please accept this as a token of our thanks for the excellent service you provided to us during our voyage."

Mr. Walsh's eyes lit up as he was handed the stuffed packet and he thanked him for his kind words and generosity before folding the envelope and stuffing it into his pant pocket.

"It has been my pleasure, Sir, and before we part, may I suggest that you station yourself at the port side railing before we enter the harbor as it will provide you with the best view of the Statue of Liberty. The monument is quite impressive, Mr. Crawley…a sight I am sure you will never forget."

Matthew thanked him again and the steward tipped his head and went out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

Turning back around, Matthew saw George standing in the archway between the hall and sitting room with his eyes glued on him, shuffling his feet back and forth.

"What is it, Son? Do you need something?

"I do, Father," he replied in a soft tone of voice. Then he cleared his throat and said more loudly, "If it wouldn't be an imposition, would you come to my room and help me secure the lock on my suitcase. I've been trying to pack the book Mr. Molesley gave me chronicling the history of New York but it is quite thick and is preventing the latch from closing."

"I'd be happy to help," Matthew replied, and followed George into the bedroom.

He had assumed he would find the boy he shared it with and his daughter there, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"I was told JR was giving Victoria chess lessons. Was I misinformed?"

George advised him he was not and went on to explain that they had moved the chess board to his sister's room so that he could read in peace.

"Well, that was very considerate of them," Matthew said, and moved to sit on the empty bed, noting that the other had George's suitcase planted in the middle of it.

Soon thereafter, he took notice that the latch on his son's luggage was tightly secured and he fixed his gaze on him with one eyebrow raised.

George stammered, "I'm sorry that I brought you here under false pretenses, Father…." He paused then and took a deep breath and let it out before he resumed speaking. "…It is just….well, Victoria and JR seemed so happy to hear your news that I didn't want to dampen their spirits. They are only children, after all, and have been quite distressed by circumstances that have taken place in the last few days."

Matthew felt his mouth twitch at that and his chest fill with pride as it was clear his son no longer thought of himself as a child. Then he wondered if George ever had.

"Go on," he said, motioning for him to take a seat across from him.

Pushing the suitcase toward the headboard of the bed, George lowered himself onto the soft mattress and sat, staring at the gold fleur de lis emblazoned on the dark wool carpet under his foot for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat and spouted, "There were more men on board than the seven that were pulled out of the water, weren't there?"

Knowing how astute George was, Matthew was not surprised that he picked up on his lie of omission and sighed. Though it would pain him to reveal the bleak details that he had not shared earlier, he had to answer his question honestly now.

Shaking his head in resignation, he replied, "Yes, there were more. Four crewmen were not recovered from the sea and I've learned since I visited the hospital that two more have succumbed to their injuries. The captain of the lightship is in pretty bad shape, but from what I've been told, three other members of the crew are doing well under the circumstances." He paused a moment then, taking in George's forlorn expression, and added, "Captain Binks did all he could, Son. He had rescue boats in the water for over two hours."

George sighed and then said, "I'm sure he did everything humanly possible. From what I've seen, he runs a tight ship and he is an honorable man."

Inclining his head in agreement, Matthew rose and crossed the short distance between the two beds and planted himself next to his first born, wrapping his arm around him.

"Since I believe you are wise beyond your years, it is likely that you have already discovered that contrary to the notion that children hold regarding happy endings, they are hardly a given. Tragedies befall people every day, George, no matter what part of the world they live in or their station in life."

At that, George inched closer to him and rest his head against his shoulder. "I do know that, Father since our family was struck by the worst tragedy imaginable the day I was born…Of course, I have no first-hand knowledge of it, but I have picked up bits and pieces of conversations over time regarding your accident and the aftereffects, especially as they pertain to Mother. To be clear, the information was not shared with me knowingly. Whenever the topic was discussed, it was done so in hushed tones."

Matthew was taken back by that. Hushed tones or not, he was not pleased that the gory details of his accident and its aftermath had been discussed when George, or any of the other children that resided at Downton for that matter, were within hearing distance. He would address his dissatisfaction with Robert once he returned to Downton.

"Would you mind sharing what you heard with me?" he asked in a soft tone. "I'd like to be sure you have all your facts straight… and I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have. In fact, I wish you would have come to me or your mother if you were curious about that time in our lives. There is nothing you can't ask us, George."

"I didn't want to make either of you relive it, Father. From what I gathered, Mother hardly came out of her room for months when she believed you were dead…and she could be heard sobbing through the door quite often. Grandfather told Aunt Edith that he had encouraged her to spend more time with me, as he believed that would have lifted her spirits, but in the early days, she couldn't manage to do it. She was too brokenhearted.

The thought of Mary in mourning, unable to derive any happiness from their newborn son cut him like a knife and he grimaced. "I'm sorry that your mother suffered because of me, Son, and that you were slighted the attention you deserved because she did."

George raised his head and exclaimed, "You have nothing to apologize for…no more than Captain Binks does. You both did the best you could." He smiled at him then and added, "Besides, you gave Mother a happy ending she never thought possible."

 _Nor did anyone else_ , popped into his head, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn up at that as he remembered the looks of astonishment that greeted him the day he returned to Downton. He was about to share that experience with his son, but finding him in deep contemplation, he let him be.

A minute later, George looked him in the eye and said, "It appears to me that all is not always lost when tragedy strikes…sometimes a happy ending is still possible. Miracles might be rare, but they do happen…You are living proof of that, Father, as are the lightship crewmen that will survive their injuries. I think we must never give up hope, even if all we can hope for is to have enough strength to brave the storm."

In awe of his son's insight and eloquence, Matthew beamed at him with pride and said, "You never cease to amaze me, George. Here I thought I was teaching you a life lesson, but it is clear you have already mastered it…and much better than I have. Definitely wise beyond your years."

George blushed at the praise and replied, "If I am, it is only because I have had such an excellent teacher in you, Father."

Matthew felt his eyes become misty and blinked a few times. After his injury at Amiens, he had been awarded the Victoria Cross in recognition of his valor and sacrifice, but even that honor didn't compare to this.

"Thank you, Son. I cannot think of higher praise."

Then he lightened the mood, slapping George's thigh before rising to his feet and declaring, "My stomach is grumbling worse than Mr. Carson when he found Horus had gotten into the pantry. I say we gather the others and decide on a place to eat."

Grinning from ear to ear, George bounced off the bed and said, "Lead the way, Father."

He did but stopped short when he reached the threshold of the room as Victoria's high-pitched declaration reached his ears.

"Checkmate!" she shouted.

Matthew turned to George with a look of astonishment and alarm on his face, "I'm afraid we are in for it now."

Mirroring his father's expression, he nodded and replied, "Not just us. Grandfather found the yo-yo sessions tedious. Can you imagine the look on his face when Victoria challenges him to a chess match?"

He could, and seeing the scene play out in his mind's eye, he burst out into laughter.

George followed suit and the two of them chuckled all the way into the sitting room, where they found Mary and Anna staring at them in bewilderment.

"What on earth…?" Mary said, looking at her husband and son as if they had both gone mad.

Composing himself, he turned to George and winked at him before replying, "We have stumbled upon a happy ending."

XX

This chapter has been the most difficult to write as it is based on an actual tragic event. There is more history here than in any others I have written. The details of that event have been transcribed accurately. I have added very little for dramatic impact, as not much was needed.

On May 15th, 1934, the Nantucket lightship LV117 was cut in half by the Olympic and sunk. Real people suffered a horrible fate and died.

Therefore, I dedicate this chapter to the brave crew of that ill-fated lightship, both the men who perished 85 years ago as well as those who survived but are long gone now. They heroically guided thousands of people to safety during their tenure and I applaud them. May they forever rest in peace.

As for our beloved Downton characters, they will be arriving in New York in the next chapter and then will move on to Newport to Martha Levinson's mansion.

The Crawleys and Bates have a lot of excitement ahead and I hope you will stay with this story so you won't miss any of it.

I apologize once more for the long delay. I have had my own storm to weather in real life and it has been very difficult to find time to write.

As I've said before, however, I will finish this story to the best of my ability.

I heartily welcome reviews as I think it brings new readers as well as giving me the impetus to begin working on the next chapter.

Please leave a line or two.


	9. Update December 10th

**Please Don't Abandon Ship!**

I know you have been waiting for Chapter X and I am working on it. However, my husband has been in and out of hospital (cancer) and between that and working full time, I haven't been able to get much down on paper (though I have all my research done).

Having said this, the chapter will be up as soon as possible. This story is a bright spot in a dark time for me and I miss it!

Just wanted to wish my loyal followers a Happy Holiday (whatever you celebrate) and ask that you remain patient.

I promise you this story will never be abandoned.

Hopefully, I'll be able to get back to writing the next chapter very soon. I have put a dent in it.

Msmenna😊


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